Changing My Course As I Grow Older

The deeper I move into old age, the more I realize how much of my life was spent hurrying to a destination chosen for me by others. 

I see now how little voice I had in where I was to go or how I would get there. It was as though I had been plunged into a stream whose force and direction were determined at first by my parents, then by teachers, by friends who chose the games we played, Army sergeants, professors, bosses and the demands of raising a family.

At times I would tentatively touch the wheel to steer to a high school outside my district, for example, or to one branch of military service rather than another. My primary role, however, was to sit quietly and not capsize the boat I was on.

The time came when those who captained the boat allowed me to do some of the navigating. I turned into ports where I would go to college, find a job, marry and raise a family. But I made these course corrections knowing they would earn either a smile or frown from those who had mapped my journey. It was unlikely I would turn too sharply from the path they had set for me.

I'm now 93 and alone on the boat. My wife of nearly 70 years died suddenly and unexpectedly.  Throughout our years together, Muriel's hand touched mine as we guided our boat into harbors that offered promise. Her hand was no longer on the wheel with mine. For the first time in my life, I had to choose where I wanted to go and how I would get there.

My children, grandchildren and close friends surround me with love and do their best to ease my journey. Their heartfelt kindness is bestowed with their suggestions that I avoid risk. They ask, for example, if it's wise for me to drive at night or continue running the three and five-mile races I enter. I'm touched by their concern and am aware that at my age the slightest injury could be catastrophic.

But I'm also aware of a different risk, finding myself becalmed in a pond whose still waters are surrounded by ports I don't want to enter. 

I'm no longer being swept along a current powered at first by my parents and bosses and later by Muriel and me. Instead, I now feel the timid pull of old age slowly taking me where it wants me to go.

I'm grateful for the concern those I love have for me, but my journey through these final years is one I intend to navigate alone. Muriel often said I enjoyed opening windows within myself searching for qualities I had never explored. She said our shared eagerness to discover new possibilities heightened the excitement of our marriage. It's that excitement I want to recapture, the thrill of a rushing current, this time taking me to a destination I must choose.

Is it possible, at 93, to navigate that journey with excitement, perhaps even with passion? Muriel said that through the years, our marriage had also become a passionate friendship. She would expect the blaze of that passion to light my voyage.   

I know she's alongside me on this journey that will take me where she would want us to go. She would not settle for paddling through a listless pond deemed safe for those in older age. She would want me to feel her hand on the wheel beside mine, turning into streams where adventure glowed.

Robert W. Goldfarb served as founder and president of Urban Directions, Inc. (UDI), a management consulting firm that mentored managers and management teams to achieve their fullest potential. He closed UDI in 2021 to concentrate on writing and serving as a volunteer mentor to aspiring entrepreneurs. His articles have appeared in The New York Times, The San Francisco Chronicle and elsewhere. His book, "What's Stopping Me From Getting Ahead" was published by McGraw-Hill. Read More