Be Like Syble

Syble rocks.

I’ve been spending more time with folks who did not just fall off the turnip truck.  They’ve been around the block, and this is not their first rodeo. OK, I’m talking about old folks.  And I don’t use that term flippantly — I’m talking about nonagenarians, people in their nineties.  I seem to have hit the nonagenarian jackpot.

You’re probably picturing a gentle grandma in a housedress, silver hair in a bun, quietly sitting with her cat in a house full of Precious Memories figurines, knitting and reminiscing about the good old days.  Nope.  These nonagenarians rock, especially my friend Syble.

Syble is 96.  She’s been a widow for almost 25 years.  She lives independently in her beautiful house.  And she’s got it going on.

I want to be like Syble.

Play games.

When she was younger, Syble played tennis and golf.  In this picture, circa 1978, she’s the tiniest one, in the khaki shorts.

Her tennis-playing days may be over, but now Syble plays bridge, mah-jongg, and Mexican train dominoes.  She has standing dates for each of those every week.  And she usually wins.  Keep your fingers on your nickels and dimes when Syble is playing.

Go to Chicken Night.

Chicken Night at the local country club is a big draw, and Syble doesn’t miss it.  But it’s not just Chicken Night — it’s Mexican Night, or trying the new sushi place, or out for barbecue at the Two Frogs (a popular local joint).  And you can also find her at the Little Theatre play, or at the fireworks display on the 4th of July.

Sometimes I’m a bit of a slug and want to hunker down, skip a night out.  If my 96-year-old friend can make it to Chicken Night, then so should I.  (And I’ve learned that you don’t want to miss Chicken Night. That’s some damn fine chicken.)

Be the organizer.

I tend not to be the one who organizes fun times with friends.  I’m worried about who to invite, and whether I might leave someone out.  What if I choose a restaurant that isn’t good?   Or — my husband’s greatest fear — what if people stay past his bedtime?  So I’m not the instigator, and we just wait for kind friends to call us, and include us in their plans.  Not so Syble.  She organizes, she invites and includes, she gets the gals out.  I’ll bet Syble never spends a night sitting at home waiting for the phone to ring.

But it’s more than that.  Syble’s social circle is older women, most of them widows.  I suspect there would be a lot more isolation and a lot less joy among that awesome group of women if it weren’t for Syble.

Call your friends.

All that planning requires a lot of communication, and it’s not texting.  Syble picks up the phone and calls.  (One other difference with this generation is that older people actually answer the phone.)  She calls with invitations and logistics.  But invitations and logistics sometimes seem like an excuse to check in, offer help or sympathy.  When adult kids don’t call as often as they should (here I am, guiltily raising my hand), how lovely to have Syble checking on you every day.

Dress up for dinner (or lunch or cards)

Check out this picture of the old Thursday-night-dinner group (another event organized by Syble).

Every woman is dressed in a fabulous outfit.  This attribute isn’t unique to Syble, but seems to be ingrained in most women of a certain age.   Don’t pass up the opportunity to sport some smart clothing.  Put on your pretty earrings or a scarf.  Wear some snazzy shoes.

Do it for your friends.  Do it for the event.  Do it for yourself.

Nurture your girlfriends.

I think when I’m 96, I might be tired.  Apparently Syble has energy to spare, at least when it comes to her girlfriends.   On my mom’s 91st birthday, 96-year-old Syble baked her a cake.  When my mom had a brief hospital stay, Syble brought my dad King Ranch Casserole.  Now that my dad is battling Alzheimer’s, Syble often brings dinner to my parents.

I haven’t yet mentioned the No Host Lunch.  I don’t know what “No Host Lunch” means, but it seems pretty terrific.  I believe Syble is the organizer (of course), but a different woman plans each month’s lunch.  The one I attended in July was planned by Helen, another of my favorite gals.  The table was overflowing with red, white and blue accessories, including a mechanical ground hog who sang Yankee Doodle Dandy.  All the women wore sparkly patriotic clothing. And the grand finale was when Helen passed out song sheets and we all sang “Grand Old Flag” and “America the Beautiful.”

I wrote that Syble has been a widow for almost 25 years. Syble and a group of beautiful widows go out to dinner almost every night.  When I saw them recently one of the women had lost her husband only a few weeks earlier. She was was clearly still grieving, and teared up when I told her what a fine man he had been.  If I were her, I might be curled up in a blanket at home.   But this formidable group of women —  some with walkers, hearing aids, or canes — wrapped their arms around her, swept her up, and got her out to dinner at the Catfish Corner.  All dressed to the nines, of course.

It’s a sad fact that many of us gals will end up outliving our husbands.  We’re going to need each other.  And you know what?  We need each other now, too. We need to play games together and go to Chicken Night together.   We need to make each other King Ranch Casserole.  We need to get dressed up, and maybe we even need to sing songs together. It’s not too early.  And it’s never too late.

Let’s be like Syble.

Looking for a gift for the older person in your life?  Check out Gift ideas for (awesome & spectacular) aging parents.  Or want to hear more about some of the awesome older women in my life?  Take a look at MarthaAnnIsms: words of wisdom from my mom,