911 dispatcher’s family surprises her on last call before retirement
In Albemarle, North Carolina, 911 dispatcher Hayley Franklin is surprised by her husband and kids during her final sign‑off call before retirement.
At 96 years old, I find that life is a series of competing realities. Two weeks ago, I felt a surge of energy and began planning a trip to Washington, DC. Two days later, I felt totally exhausted. I began to wonder – am I “young-old” or “old-old”? The answer continually changes.
As a psychologist who has spent decades studying transitions, I have found that the most difficult transition isn’t retirement – it’s the decades that follow. In coleading a group called “The Aging Rebels” in Sarasota, Florida, I’ve seen a recurring theme emerge among those in their 80s and 90s. We call it the “freedom paradox.”
The Weight of Total Autonomy
When we are younger, we crave freedom: freedom from the clock, from professional demands, from the “boundaries” of caregiving. But as the group members recently articulated, total freedom can quickly turn into a sense of feeling “marginalized.”
One former nurse in our group described the relief of finally having no schedules – no plants to water, no husband to care for, no shifts to pull. Yet, that relief was shadowed by a loss of connection and competency. As one man poignantly asked the group: “Have you tried to buy a smart TV lately?”
One challenge of this life stage is the shift in time perspective. We vacillate between feeling that “time is running out” and having far too much “time on our hands.” Without a reason to get up, freedom feels less like a reward and more like a vacuum.
The Mattering Mandate
To navigate this, we must look past the “bucket list” and focus on mattering. To matter is to feel noticed, cared for, and – most importantly – depended upon. In my research with the Hartford Fund, we found that the happiest seniors aren’t those with the most leisure, but those who have “recalibrated” their psychological portfolios.
If you are navigating this transition, or helping a parent do so, consider these three shifts:
Cultivate a “backup identity.” My partner was a lifelong sailor. When he turned 91, he realized he was no longer physically capable of managing his boat. Instead of a crisis of identity, he leaned into a “backup” role: He is a sculptor and a self-taught “techie.” In our community, he is known as “1-800-Richard.” He traded sailing for sculpting maintaining his sense of relevance. His experience is a warning: It’s time to think of one’s backup identity so you won’t be blindsided when your latest venture ends.
Solve small problems. Mattering doesn’t require grand gestures. A 90-year-old friend in assisted living noticed a staff member trip while jumping over a hedge to reach the dining hall. He wrote to the CEO suggesting a paved path; the path was built. He didn’t just improve safety; he reaffirmed his role as a contributor to his environment.
Embrace competing realities. We must give ourselves permission to hold two truths at once. You can be aware of your proximity to death while remaining vibrantly alive. You can grieve your physical diminished capacity while still seeking fun.
The Final Frontier
There is no recipe for the 90s, and the questions – Do I still have a purpose? Have I left a legacy? – rarely have permanent answers. However, the roadmap to “mattering” is clear: Stay involved, harness the power of invitation, and make others feel they count.
We are all aging rebels now. The goal is not just to add years to life, but to ensure those years still hold the weight of a life that matters.
Nancy K. Schlossberg, is Professor Emerita, University of Maryland. She is the author of 10 books, including “Too Young to be Old,” “Revitalizing Retirement” and “Retire Smart, Retire Happy.”