Celebrating 80 on My Terms: Joy Revisited
With my 80th birthday approaching, I found myself dreading it more than celebrating. When asked, “What are you doing for your big day?” “Something on your bucket list, perhaps? I’m expected to announce a cruise or a gala with balloons, but instead, I’d respond, “I’d like to forget it.”
The number 80 gets stuck in my throat when someone asks, “What birthday is it?” When it does come out, someone will say, “Wow! You don’t look your age,” as if looking your age is a problem.
Big-number birthdays are milestones wrapped in complicated emotions.
On one hand, I’m grateful to be alive and active. On the other hand, the realities of aging can make it hard to feel festive. Some days, celebrating feels exhausting, especially since I typically want to do all the planning.
Some of my younger friends have extended their milestone birthdays for a full year of adventures. One friend turning sixty has set out to try sixty things she has never done before.
I enjoy trying new things–but eighty? At this age, there’s a lot of “been there, done that,” not to mention that caution is my new reality. Before I commit to something unfamiliar, I go through a checklist of “What ifs?” What if I fall? What if it’s too long? What if I need the money for an emergency? Even with my upcoming trip to Colorado, I checked with my cardiologist about the possibilities of altitude issues and then with my financial advisor to make sure it was doable.
I don’t want to act old, but I am turning 80.
In her lovely book In the Country of Old, Susan Abel Lieberman writes, “I am an immigrant in a new land, filled with adaptations to keep living with purpose and meaning and enjoy life as it comes.”
That line resonates with me. I want to quietly tiptoe into becoming a “super-ager.”
My family wants to make this birthday memorable, but I’ve felt resistant, apathetic, and sometimes dark. I’ve had my will reviewed, wondering if this milestone was a finish line rather than a living line.
Then, one afternoon, something shifted. Sitting on my deck, watching birds flit around my cheerful geraniums, I began to think about the wonderful adventures I’ve already experienced, the incredible people around me, and my special times with each member of my family. It’s what psychologists call positive reminiscence, described as a “hallmark of happiness” because it boosts your mood as it did for me.
I realized how much fun I had put aside during the five years I spent caring for my husband and how isolation became a habit during COVID.
That’s when it hit me: I don’t need to chase new adventures. I can revisit the ones that once filled me with happiness—the people, places, and pleasures I didn’t know were patiently waiting for my return.
That’s when I made a list—not a bucket list, not a “for the last time” farewell list, but an “oh boy, I can do this again list.” I’m excited now and in a mindset of living with joy revisited!
Now that’s a celebration!
The list grew quickly, starting with a simple pleasure—floating in a pontoon boat on the lake. Medicine Lake is just outside my door, but we sold our boat when my husband’s illness overwhelmed me, and summers just slipped away. Once we can coordinate everyone’s busy schedules, I will watch the boys jump into the water, making a huge splash intended to soak me, then come up for chips and soda, followed by a loud burp. It will be a blast from the past!
Studies show that returning to familiar moments reawakens us. It’s not just doing something; it’s a soulful kind of reexperiencing.
That’s why golf is next on the list. I used to love it, but health issues and age have slowed me down, and a round of golf would have taken hours away from my husband. Now, I want to see if I can send a ball soaring again. After stretching and brushing the cobwebs off my clubs, I’ll head to the driving range just for the thrill of swinging. Of course, I was always a fair-weather golfer, so it must be a perfect weather day.
Spending one-on-one time with my grandsons is high on my birthday list. It’s been too long since they slept over, and I could spoil them with whipped cream-topped breakfasts. To my delight, each scheduled an overnight between soccer and friends. Our conversations these days are about their friends and activities, with me talking about how things were different for women “back then,” and always adding a story about Papa for a good laugh. Sometimes, I sneak in a life lesson or two.
These cross-generational hangouts remind me how lucky I am to celebrate being 80 and still be a part of their world.
My list began with a narrow focus, like returning to favorite restaurants I’ve ignored, even if their prices have doubled, and ordinary, yet pleasurable activities, like taking all the time needed to create the photo book that has been in my head for years.
But, as the process of revisiting has become more appealing, my lens is widening. I am drawn back to destinations that hold vivid memories. Exploring them through an older lens will be familiar and different at the same time– and still exciting, even at 80.
That’s why my friend and I plan to redo our unforgettable trip to Napa Valley, where we once floated in a hot air balloon over yellow vineyards during mustard season. It will be different without our husbands this time, but the beauty and magic will still exist. Of course, we will need help getting in and out of the balloon’s gondola.
As my enthusiasm grows, I keep adding items. London and Paris are the latest additions. I see no need for limitations, not even a birthday as a deadline. This is about living with a sense of rediscovery, joyfully revisiting life rather than retreating from it, and celebrating on my terms.
While the thought of turning 80 can be chilling, I prefer to follow the example of Judith Viorst, who writes in her playful book Unexpectedly 80: “I’m still alive. It’s positively thrilling.”
