A Mother and Daughter Talk Aging

This interview started out as many do at Tufts Now: an editor approaches a faculty member with a request to share their valued expertise and insights—in this case, on aging.

Sarah Booth, director of the Jean Mayer USDA Human Nutrition Research Center on Aging at Tufts University (HNRCA) and senior scientist of the center’s Vitamin K Team, had a different idea. 

How about an informal conversation between her and her mother, Audrey Booth? Who better, she suggested, to talk about aging than a woman enjoying a vital and meaningful daily life at age 91?

Audrey Booth may have recently reckoned with going older and living several hours from her daughter—she now lives in a senior residence in Montreal. But she also refused to give up the activities that have always enriched her life. 

In this conversation, mother and daughter talk about aging through the things that matter: books, ideas, family, friendships, and a genuine curiosity and empathy for others. They are all part of an interconnected approach to living one’s life, at any age. 

Finding What Matters

Sarah Booth: Mom, one growing interest among older Americans is lifelong learning. You've embodied that all your adult life. Can you talk about what it means to you?

Audrey Booth: The one thing that I had to bring with me when I moved into my senior residence was my books. I also just started a book club and it’s been a roaring success. We've got a waiting list now because people are enjoying it so much. 

The book we're reading now is a Gentleman in Moscow and the first book we read was An Odyssey: A Father, a Son, and an Epic by Daniel Mendelsohn. He teaches classics, and his father asked to take his class on Homer’s Odyssey. He comes to the class at the age of 82. Later, they go on a tour of where the Odyssey takes place. It's a great book and it led to some really good discussions. People here have such a wealth of life experiences to share. 

I'm filled with gratitude that I have been able to keep reading. I just enjoy keeping my brain engaged. I enjoy meeting people. I enjoy ideas—we recently went to the Georgia O'Keefe and Henry Moore exhibition [at the Montreal Museum of Fine Arts]. I enjoy going to concerts and listening to music—it gives me so much pleasure. So my one piece of advice would be to get an interest. Find something that really matters to you. 

Tufts Now: Atul Gawande’s book Being Mortal, which you both read, talks about how parents and children sometimes disagree over safety versus quality of life when it comes to aging. Is that something the two of you experienced? 

SB: Probably one of the areas we had the most conflict and tension was around living arrangements. My mother was living on her own in a lovely apartment building, but it didn’t have any security. And my husband and I were starting to get quite concerned because, what would happen if she got ill? And we were coming up on COVID, and we were talking with her about going into a place where if she got ill, there was somebody there. 

AB: I really resisted because generally I'm in pretty good health and very active. I did a lot of volunteer work and I was enjoying life in retirement and I just didn't see myself living in an environment with all older people. So Sarah will confirm that there was a bit of nudging done, let's put it that way. 

SB: Atul Gawande says children all do the same thing. They think they know what the parent wants, and it's all around safety. And the parent gets frustrated because at this point in life, it's not all about safety. 

Coming into Your True Self

SB:  There’s a saying that age is just a number; what’s most important is attitude. I think that’s true for you, Mum, and your mother; Nana immigrated to Australia when she was 89. As of late, you've been saying: I understand now why Nana did what she did. Can you talk more about that?

AB: My mother was not a loving mother. Both my sister and I agree that she was always critical; nothing was good enough, from the way we dressed to our choice of friends. Then, at age 89, a couple of years after my father had died, she left her home in England and moved to Australia, where my sister and her husband lived, and who offered to build her a granny flat. 

Well, she just blossomed! She started swimming again. She made friends. She joined a bridge club. Later she went into a retirement home for veterans and she fit right in. The only thing she didn’t like was that they sat her at a table with women who complained all the time. So she asked to be moved, and they put her a table with four men, and that suited her. They discussed politics, daily affairs, cricket, rugby. World War II. She kept going strong until the end, when she died at 105. 

I think what happened is that my mother came into her true self. She was in a friendly environment and she had a chance to really enjoy herself. We also had a chance to build a better relationship. We had some wonderful conversations; I felt I was really getting to know her. 

Feeding the Soul

SB: You had your own blossoming after you retired at age 65, two months before Dad died. Can you talk about that time in your life? 

AB: Retirement allowed me to transform, as well—especially by deepening my spiritual life. I was in the Anglican Church of England, and then the Catholic Church became quite a big part of my life. I learned Christian meditation from a wonderful Catholic monk and eventually became what's called a Benedictine oblate, where you make a commitment to the Christian way of life. I continue to meditate every morning and evening. And I just feel that that has given me a lot of leaning into my life, which is becoming stronger and stronger. 

I also used to give palliative care in people’s homes. I loved that. There’s something about being with people at the end of their life; it is a gift beyond words. It feeds the soul.   

And I took every opportunity to keep learning. I enrolled in courses with the Thomas More Institute and with Concordia University. My retirement was filled with doing things I had always wanted to do, including learning tai chi and improving my French. I’m still working on my French by taking a course online.

A Generational Lens

TN: Sarah, you of course are aging, too—as we all are! I read somewhere I’m known as in “early middle age” and that brought up a lot of anxiety! What does “middle age” mean to you?

SB: It’s interesting that we have those social constructs that neatly categorize us by age. It used to be that middle age meant beginning of the end—you’re slowing down; you’re that much closer to older years and to the end of life.

But today, I think many of those associations have been lost, and everything is open to what you make it. My grandmother had my mum at 34 and my aunt at 43. I certainly wouldn’t have called her, as a new mother, middle-aged!

Mum, you used to tell me that when you were in your early eighties, you considered yourself end at the ‘latter stage of middle age.’  

AB: I felt that way, yes, though I do realize I've got far less years in front of me now than I have behind. Sometimes that is sad, but not for myself. It’s when each decade bring more personal losses. I lost three very good friends last summer. On the other hand, I make friends easily. I'm now starting to make friends in here and I'm meeting such interesting people. As people get older, they become more interesting. 

SB: In my personal experience, I don't see it now as youth, then middle age and older age. Generations are defined by decades. When I look at my life, each decade represents something very different. 

AB: Yes, we joke here about how different generations have different ideas and ways of behaving, and almost a different language. There are the youth we read about in our book club, and then there are the people here who have lived through the war and lost family in the Holocaust. So it's more about different generational ways of dealing with life. 

Inner and Outer Changes

TN: Audrey, are there changes you have had to concede physically to as you entered your 90s? 

AB: This is what I can say. I’ve been seeing my own losses in physical ability and energy. I don't always have the energy to do a lot of the things that I once really enjoyed doing. So I have to pace myself. 

SB: I recall when you and I went to Australia to see your sister, who was ill. We had to take multiple flights and then drive for four hours: 36 hours of travel to get to a rented beach house on the Indian Ocean. You were in your late eighties, and you had no jet lag. 

So somebody in their eighties is not somebody who is necessarily disabled. They're perfectly capable to be functioning in society and enjoying life.

TN: Sarah, have you gained any insights from your mother about the process of getting older?  

SB: One thing I have learned in my late fifties and early sixties is that life becomes less about what you think people want you to be like or say or dress, and more about being authentic to yourself. Once I was given the permission to do that, I found I was far more effective in my job and more confident in who I was. 

AB: I think with aging, things that really bothered you before—they don't matter anymore. You get over the sort of impression you are making or the way you look, and that can be very liberating.

What We Gain

TN: How important is the mother-daughter relationship to you both?

AB: It’s more important than ever; it's growing in depth and width. We're similar in personality. We’re both strong-willed and when she was younger, that could be challenging because we both had to have the last word.

SB: Yes. As we've got older, we've kind of realized we both can have the last word! We do one phone call on Friday night or Saturday morning and we talk for two hours. 

Not long ago we bought this tiny little place in Maine. It's very modest; less than a thousand square feet. Mom went hiking there last year with us. Being up there and spending time in an environment that we really all love, that has made a big difference to how we relate. Would you say, Mom?

AB: Yes, definitely. And we're already planning our summer this year. 

TN: There’s a lot of talk, perhaps too much, about what we lose as we age—can you each talk about what we gain?

AB: I think one of the gifts of older age is that if you're paying attention, you can reflect. For example, I enjoyed being a mother. I also value the time I had with my husband. He was diagnosed with early Alzheimer’s, and I cared for him the last 25 years of his life. I've come to see that long goodbye as a blessing. It made me appreciate what I had. 

As you get older, your short-term memory goes, but you remember the long-term things. And I've had the ability to build on the good things that have happened. Life is so rich that you can always find meaning in it. 

It's sort of like a gift that nobody really talks about—that idea that you can reflect and think more deeply about what your life meant, and have the feeling of a life well-lived. And I don't think you can do that when you're young.

SB: If you look at society as a whole, I think we are moving toward a more positive view of aging. At Tufts, our workforce spans six decades, from people in their early twenties right out of college to scientists who are making amazing contributions, in their eighties. That age span of the workforce can change perceptions. 

Mum, when you were growing up, you didn't see that in part because the average lifespan was into the late sixties. Heart disease was a death sentence. But today, people more are more exposed to people working across a broader age range and in a healthy way. 

Of course, youth is always going to feel that being “older” is a long way away. That’s just part of our growing—or as you would say, part of our evolving.

AB: I do see the decades as part of one long continuum over which time we evolve into the people we were meant to be. When I look at a life decade-by-decade, I don’t see it as a path that has to be resigned to doing less and less. It's about keeping on learning. I still see myself as a work in progress.