Two Old Women

Contributed by reader Traci Schauf. “I’m a 50 year old mother of two daughters, college instructor, and blogger. I firmly believe that there is an outdoor activity for everyone and that everyone should get outside. My family and I kayak, bike, hike, backpack and fish fanatically. It’s very important to me that my girls see me remaining active all through life, and that I constantly try new things.” Bravo, Traci! You can check out Traci’s blog at momonvacation.blogspot.com

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I recently re-read the book “Two Old Women.” Many years ago a friend had loaned it to me. She had read it, and in the two old women saw the two of us, compadres to the end. We easily identified ourselves in the story, our personalities reflected in each of the women, and saw the similarities to our real life friendship. With only each other, we could conquer everything- the elements; family who abandoned us; wolves, even.

When I read the book again, I found a completely different story. Oh, I still believe that with the help of my precious friend I can conquer many things. We are still the same personalities, one timid and kind, one brash and unafraid. But the story of the two old women, abandoned by their tribe when resources became scarce, resonated greatly with a different tune now.

As we age, we begin to receive special considerations and respect for our age. When the young ones do things for us-cook, clean, run errands, bring gifts- we feel loved, cherished, and honored as senior members of the tribe. In the book, the old women were brought food and clothing. They no longer had to hunt, gather, or create their own clothing and shelter. The tribe felt it was their duty to honor the women in such a way. The old women helped by watching the children, or imparting advice. But they no longer had to walk far into the woods to find sustenance, nor do any of the back-breaking labor. They didn’t even have to think about where the next day’s meal would come from.

But as the old women found out, too much of letting others ‘honor’ them led to forgetting many subsistence and self-sufficiency skills, which had to be painfully dredged from memory to survive when they were left on their own. They had to re-learn the weaving, sewing, lashing, and hunting that would keep them alive, to the astonishment of themselves and the tribe which later discovered them.

As the women struggled to find food and create shelter, they became more and more resilient, more aware of their surroundings and themselves, more capable, more confident, and threw off the feelings of frailty, weakness, and age.

This made me realize that I cannot let age or ‘this stage of life’ rob me of my independence, my abilities to do for myself, my energy, or my drive. The best way to nurture and protect those properties will be to stay as mentally and physically active as I possibly can. That means pushing myself when I’m tired, or feeling lazy, or when it’s too hot/cold/windy/rainy/whatever to get outside. I want to fight becoming weak, fight becoming dependent on others, fight feeling old and useless.

All the more reason now to get out and hike a little higher, bike a little farther, kayak a little faster, canoe for longer, backpack a little more, or snorkel, rollerblade, beat the hubby at Scrabble, and ~shudder~ think about skydiving. Old age is going to have to look very, very hard to find me.