I met Madeline when I was in my early 20s. I really don’t know how old she was at the time. Much older is all I could figure. I think when you’re young, it’s nearly impossible to guess an older woman’s age.
Just looking at her and how she dressed, I figured she had enjoyed a comfortable life. Her silver hair was perfectly styled, as if she had just left the hair salon. She wore a watch on one wrist, bracelets on the other, rings on her ring fingers, and very large clip-on earrings. She was a refined lady who sold residential real estate in the same office where my husband was a salesman.
Madeline was a “people person.” You know the type. They engage you in conversation by asking the best questions, starting with the easy ones and then moving on to the deeper, more thought-provoking ones. She asked what brought us to St. Joe, where I grew up, whether I had family nearby, whether I had any hobbies, and if it was hard to leave my hometown.
Through our many conversations, I became pretty convinced she was of German descent, mostly because of her given name. She was, however, much friendlier than my grandmother, Ida.
Madeline lived in a brick home overlooking the beautiful blue waters of Lake Michigan. Her home was decorated with solid wood furniture, colorful couches and chairs, heavy brocade curtains, and what I would call “traditional” artwork. Given my upbringing, I considered her style to be “fancy.”
The glass shelves of her china hutch held fine crystal, china, silver serving trays, platters, candy dishes, and so much more. It was all so elegant. I learned later that these things were not just for looking at. They were used, and used a lot, as Madeline loved to throw dinner parties.
She knew tons of people in St. Joseph. Sold most of them their homes. I’m pretty sure the majority of her closest friends were around her age, but from what I observed, she spent equal time with people from all decades. Madeline was proper, gracious, classy, well educated, an independent thinker, and feisty to boot.
Every once in a while, she would mention her husband. She missed him terribly. His passing early in life had been a shock to her and her family. It was the kind of loss one never really “gets over.” When she spoke of him, it was with tenderness mixed with deep sadness. No matter how many years had passed, the loss was still fresh.
She solved the “alone” issue by adding a sweet little poodle to her life. Anyone who has owned a poodle would understand what a good combo they were—a touch of comedy mixed with a persnickety shot on the side. The poodle slept with her every night because she “liked having something alive in bed with her.”
I observed so many positive things in this woman that she encouraged me to seek out people like her throughout my life.
One such person is someone I met at a New Neighbors meeting in 1972. Our friendship began by talking about our vacuum cleaners, of all things! We laugh our faces off every time we’re together. She’s easygoing, quick-witted, loyal as the day is long, and speaks her mind so you never have to guess where she’s coming from. Not rude, just honest and very funny. These are the kinds of friends I gravitate toward.
Again, that’s the way Madeline was. She had a host of fun friends and loved to entertain. She loved to party and missed very few of them.
Madeline told the story of going out with friends one evening to a very posh Italian restaurant called Tosi’s in Stevensville, Michigan. I remember the wonderful food, wine, and atmosphere. Anyway, at the end of the evening, she ended up dancing in the fountain. Fully clothed, no inhibitions, just crazy self-confidence that said, “I’m doin’ this.”
I would like to think I would do something like that, given the chance and a little encouragement from “self-confident me.”
Don’t get the wrong impression. Alcohol was probably involved, but she was not a heavy drinker. She just had a zest, a joy for living, that moved her to do fun, off-the-wall, crazy things.
I wanna be like that! Don’t you?
It’s that zest for life, that joy, that not only inspires you to take a chance on looking goofy, but also makes you unafraid of growing older.
I can remember the different decades of my life, stacking up with every birthday, and thinking, “I wonder when my time will be up here on earth,” and, “Have I lived it well, with joy and laughter?”
For me, it means getting up each morning and greeting the day with happiness and thankfulness from within, looking forward to projects to accomplish. But it also means going to bed at a decent time, so I get the rest needed to accomplish those tasks. Common sense. If you’ve had a good night’s rest, you won’t be dragging around the next day, pushing yourself through it.
It doesn’t matter if you’re still in the workforce or retired. Set your goals for the day. If you have to write them down so you can check them off your list, do that. Be productive. I refer to my German heritage again. In my family, we were taught to work hard. We accomplish things. We love a task and love even more having accomplished it and marking it off the list.
Don’t waste time.
Those three words hit hard. It’s so easy to get sucked into scrolling on our phones. Time is precious. Make the minutes count.
Learn to play an instrument. Teach a class or, even better, take a class. Choose a charity and volunteer your time or support it financially.
Here’s one for you: attend your class reunion. So many people laugh them off and miss out. Your classmates are some of your oldest connections. They share a piece of your own rich history.
Join a church. Sing in the choir. My faith family is a blessing, giving me a place to serve and learn each week about Jesus and life after death.
Study American history. Brush up on naming all the states and their capitals. Learn a foreign language. I started learning German about five months ago on Duolingo. I’m amazed at how much I look forward to spending roughly ten minutes a day on this app—and how much I’m learning!
Join a gym or invite a neighbor to walk with you every day. If you’re married, think of ways to love your spouse better. If you’re single, think of ways to enrich your friendships.
Volunteer at a hospital, Goodwill, or another organization that could use a hand. Keep your home organized. When your immediate surroundings are free of clutter, so shall your mind be.
The activity matters less than finding something that draws you into life. You don’t have to fill every hour. Leave a little space for an unexpected invitation.
Madeline certainly did.
Use the Good Dishes
When I think about Madeline’s china hutch now, I understand why it stayed with me. She had lovely things, and she enjoyed sharing them. She didn’t keep everything tucked away for some future occasion important enough to deserve it. Having friends over was occasion enough.
There’s a lesson in that. Use the good dishes. Call the friend. Take the class even if you’re the oldest person in the room—or the youngest. Let yourself be a beginner. Let yourself laugh.
Growing older brings changes and losses we don’t get to choose. Madeline knew that. Yet she kept reaching for the parts of life she could enjoy and the people she could love. She inspired me to make life count, to not worry about growing old, and to not let fear of death stop me from living.
That is what I hope to carry with me at every age.
I don’t know how old Madeline was when she danced in that fountain. After all these years, I realize her age was the least interesting thing about the story.
What matters is that she danced.
by Janet Hibbard