Henrietta Hay's Column

I attended an unusual wedding recently. It was very simple -- no flowers, no music, no ushers or bridesmaids. There were just a couple dozen family members gathered at the front of the Methodist church on a Monday evening. The bride and groom walked down the aisle together, her hand on his arm as he manipulated his walker. During the brief ceremony her daughter and his son stood behind their respective parents. What made it unusual was that the bride and groom are both 91 years old.

The ceremony itself was simple and sensitive. When the minister asked, "Who gives this woman in marriage?" Her family answered, "We do." When he asked "Who gives this man in marriage?" His family answered, "We do." The groom has had 91 years to hone his sense of humor and even the dignity of a wedding could not quell it. When he was asked, "Do you take this woman to be your wife?" he answered, "Do I have to say right now?" When the minister recovered his wits and his smile he managed to evoke an "I do," from the bridegroom and the ceremony went on. Both families breathed deep sighs of relief.

It is very easy to roll your eyes or laugh at the thought of these two people marrying, but why shouldn't they? At any age marriage still involves two people reaching out to each other. Love and companionship and mutual respect and sharing are just as highly valued at 91 as they are at 21. And the young might well take a lesson from the dignity and deep sense of responsibility of this couple, combined with their still active sense of humor.

Call us senior citizens, old people, the aging; the elderly -- whatever -- there are a lot of us. Since 1900 the percentage of Americans 65 and over has more than tripled and the number has increased nearly 11 times, from 3.1 million to 33.5 million. And the boomers are coming. The U. S. Bureau of the Census estimates that by 2030 there will be 69.4 million persons over 65.

The Census Bureau refers to us as "65+" and "older persons." Older than what? We need a new image. As the hordes of baby boomers approach that magic age, they are definitely looking for a more positive name and certainly a more glamorous image. After all, they are about to be us.

There are many definitions of "old." The first one in Webster is, "having lived or been in existence for a long time." That certainly describes me, but it is a strictly relative term. I used to claim that middle age was ten years older than I was but I may have to stop doing that. At 82 I hesitate to project ten years, although I do plan to stick around to see a woman inaugurated as President.

Research shows that people lose hardly any of their abilities until well into there eighties. Betty Friedan suggests that we call this last passage the new third of life. We don't deny and can't ignore the physical and mental problems of aging, they produce a whole new set of challenges and opportunities, but as George Burns said, "By the time you're 80 you've learned everything. You just have to remember it." That's the challenge!

One summer morning in a local motel parking lot I got entangled with a very enthusiastic group of touring motorcyclists. They were all in what we euphemistically call the 65+ group. They all put on their helmets and mounted their Harleys, ready to take off for some exotic spot. But before they started, the young man who was apparently the group guide called out, "Did you remember to take your meds?"

Joe Redington, 80 is somewhere between Anchorage, Alaska, and Nome this week. He is running his 19th Iditarod Trail Sled Dog race. Julia Child at 85 is still cooking up cholesterol filled storm on television.

Our joints hurt and our memories are a little shaky and we worry about Medicare, but we can ride motorcycles and play tennis and write books -- and get married at 91.

I wish the bride and groom peace and contentment and lots of laughs.