Life After Fifty

In 1979 my Dad passed away at the age of fifty-nine. Back then that was considered old. Not any more. These days people are living a lot longer, no doubt due to a better lifestyle which includes a much-improved healthcare system, a healthier diet and regular exercise.

This year I turned the grand old age of seventy. I do have a variety of chronic health conditions such as PMR/GCA, which nobody knows the cause of for certain, and the odd attack of lumbago. But overall, I remain both physically and mentally active.

Whereas my father was all washed up at fifty-nine, for sure due to having been a POW in WWII, I am still game for a good few years to come. In terms of exercise, when the heat is not 35 degrees, I go for cycle rides and walks. I usually manage to do up to ten, sometimes fifteen, km a day!

Where I really excel is in my mental capacity. In part, I put that down to having learned to speak other languages like Spanish and a little Japanese, which the medical profession says helps to ward off dementia and Alzheimer's diseases.

I spend pretty much all my working hours studying, researching and writing for no less than nine or ten pubs on Medium, plus six other sites such as Substack (where I have four pubs) Vocal Media, and four of my own platforms, which I single-handedly built and run to my heart's content. In addition, between November 2023 and March 2024, I wrote and self-published twenty-seven books on Amazon.

What drives me on is the realisation that I have many more years behind me than ahead of me. I simply want to cram in as much living as I can while I can. Even at my age, I am still full of ambition and have endless hopes and desires for the years to come. Giving up is simply not an option.

I am a firm believer that what really saw my Dad off was that he had no purpose in life. It was as if he was telling his own body, heart and soul, ok, we’re done here, it’s time to go.

For men, it is a lot easier to lose a sense of purpose than it is for women. The gentler sex engrosses themselves in their children and grandchildren. For the older generation, it was all the women ever knew. For the men, they had their work, from which they could retire. However, Mums cannot retire from being a Mum, or Grandmum, they feel compelled to go on forever.

My own mother worked until she lost her sight at the age of 78. I once asked her what she did for a living and she said “I look after the old folk.” She did not see herself as old. When she said old folk, she meant 95 knocking on 100 years old! So at 78, she was still cooking for twenty-three infirm residents in a care home.

Sadly, once Mum had lost her sight to macular degeneration, caused by diabetes, she lost some of her sense of purpose as she could no longer cook. From there on she went into slow decline until she finally passed away at 84! I still miss her, a lot. However, I take comfort in the knowledge that I carry her in my heart and soul, and I always will.

Whenever things get a little tough, or things don’t go exactly according to plan, I hear my Mum’s lovely voice loud and clear saying “Come on, Liam, you know you can do this, don’t worry, I’m here for you, I’ve got your back.”

I must say that there is one other thing that keeps me going, my lovely young wife, who is twenty years younger than me. Like my Mum, she tells me “Come on, you can do this, I’ll help you.” I think my Mum sent Sarah to me to be my Guardian Angel. My mother always intuitively knew a good soul.

So here I am at the biblical three score years and ten and ready to go at least another ten, maybe twenty, or with a good following wind behind me even more. Life is good if you want it. Just do it and never look back.