On reaching 70

JEAN FARRELL

Alas and alack, ochón agus ochón, I am now the same age as old people! My 70th birthday was last week. Growing old should have taken much longer, I think!

“It’s only a number,” the cards stated. “You’re as young as you feel,” others said. Well, I feel great, thank God but, oh, isn’t 70 a big number?

Of course we all know that age is relevant. My two aunties in their mid-nineties would consider me young.

In 1961, when this lovely photograph of Athlone ICA was taken, I would have considered these women to be quite old. They were mostly around half the age I am now. But, as I was only 10 in 1961, I thought anyone over 20 was ancient!

The women in the ICA photograph were my mother’s friends. Indeed I don’t know why she isn’t in it because she never missed an ICA meeting. Perhaps she was in Nurse Power’s Nursing Home, out in Baylough, giving birth to her 8th child. My sister, Mary, was born in 1961. Mammy was 35 years old then (half my present new age!) In fact she was middle aged at 35, because life expectancy in 1960 was 69.8.

Times were very different then. Irish people were still emigrating in large numbers and had been doing do during all the previous decades. Athlone had Gentex and the army which employed many. This was not the case in lots of other parts of the country. Hundreds of thousands of adults were forced to leave Ireland in order to find work.

I read a review of Dónall Mac Amlaigh’s books recently. He wrote about the lives of Irish emigrants in England. ‘Dialann Deoraí’ (Diary of an Exile), is his most famous book. He wrote about the fact that ‘Irish exiles lived between two worlds, uncertain if they belonged to Ireland or England. The dance halls and pubs of Camden Town and Cricklewood were heaving with the exiled Irish. They were searching for a taste of home in strange lands.’

I was surprised to read the following extract. It’s about the tensions between themselves on the streets of London. ‘The Connemara men didn’t like the lads from Kerry, and the Donegal women were keen to differentiate themselves from the Corkonians. But the most hated of all were the jackeens from Dublin, who dismissively referred to everyone else as culchies.’

However, when I consider this I can identify with what the Athlone poet, Desmond Egan, wrote on the same theme. His poem is entitled ‘Townies.’ ‘In boarding school we were distinct, amateur Dubliners of a sort, not given to turf and turnips, happy not to know hay from straw, more interested in film stars than in county teams, smart alexs.’ As young children growing up in Athlone town I am very ashamed to confess that we considered ourselves superior to country folk. Why? I have no idea. The cheek of us!

Back to the present. The Covid virus doesn’t care whether we are culchies, townies or jackeens! The only advantage of being 70, at this exact point in time, is that I will be eligible for the Covid vaccination fairly soon, I hope.

And at this exact point in time my wish to keep up with the news is currently at odds with my wish to stay sane. For the first time in my whole life I find myself turning off my four radios. I do this in order to try and stay cheerful.

Some afternoons I watch old films. Last week I enjoyed Kramer vs. Kramer, Dancing at Lughnasa and Mamma Mia. What they have in common is the wonderful Meryl Streep. Born in 1949, she was aged 30 in Kramer vs. Kramer and almost 50 when she played the bossy older sister in Brian Friel’s wonderful story, set in Donegal.

I read that when she was approaching her 50th birthday she got very depressed. This is because she honestly thought that her career was over. As she approached her 70th birthday she laughed at this notion.

Meryl Streep wrote that filming Mamma Mia, when she was almost 60, was the most fun she ever had. Indeed, she added, that the whole cast felt the same. They would have acted for no money at all, they had such a wonderful time filming on that Greek Island. Now, in her 70s, she is still making films.

The point of telling you Meryl’s story is that we can be very wrong in our assumptions. In my 60s I enjoyed performing my play ‘The Six Marys.’ I am currently writing a novel (like many more people!) Maybe in my 70th it will become a million-dollar-best-seller!!!

And aren’t I still much younger than three powerful people who rule the world, as we know it? I’m younger than the pope, the queen of England and the president of the United States.

The following story made me smile. A writer found her suitcase under her bed, covered in cobwebs. She wrote, ‘It’s a whole year now since my wheelie pal and I have set off on an adventure.’ We can all say the same, sadly. Mind you, I’m sure many people lying out in the graveyard, would love to have this problem!

Life is changing all the time. “FATHER: Did you know, son, that years ago you could smoke in bars? SON: What’s a bar? …. ..Dad, why are you crying?” Stay safe.

jeanfarrell@live.ie

This is last week's column in our print edition by Jean Farrell.

Jean's Journal continues weekly in the Westmeath Independent.