Those of us who are past the age of 60 or so know that the list of things that we can’t do, or will never do, tends to get longer with each passing year.   At the same time our aches and pains increase in both number and intensity.  Indeed, the longer we live the more our bodies and our mental abilities tend to fall apart. Moreover, while we are degrading, the list of things that improve with age gets shorter as our time grows shorter.   Although this sounds like a non-zero sum game in favor of the negatives, that is not necessarily the case for most of us. 

Some things do get better with age.  The good news is that the short list of things that improve are the stuff of life, the things that really matter.  They tend to swamp the longer list of things that degrade.   It is that difference that ultimately lets us survive, and even to prevail. 

I am not a psychologist, nor an anthropologist, nor a bio-ethicist. But I still have something to say on those subjects. I am rational most of the time, observant some of the time, and I write probably more than I should. Mainly, I am older than most of the other --ologists that I know, and seniority counts for a lot in my scheme of things.

I am going to limit my discussion to just four attributes that I've observed in others my age and older that seem to expand in breadth and depth with each passing year. In many cases the expansions have been so remarkable that many of these people who were formerly insufferable are now borderline pleasant. And that leads me to my first attribute.

Tolerance. Yes, it is true that we become less critical of others as we age. I guess that is because we become acutely aware of our own limitations, hence we make allowances for others as they also stumble along. It's the kindly thing to do. It may even make us like ourselves a little more. Personally I am still in the expansion phase in my tolerance growth period, so I will truncate further comments on this aspect of life. I've learned that stepping beyond my knowledge base usually means stepping into something else left in hidden piles.

Wisdom. First, let's not confuse wisdom with intelligence. We don't get smarter as we age. If you couldn't handle analytic geometry when you were 20, you won't have a sudden epiphany when you are 70. Wisdom seems to be what remains after you have made all the mistakes possible, and you have learned to not repeat them. Wisdom is often just a matter of “wising up” to reality. And discretion is often—but not always—the better part of valor. Calling 911 beats the hell out of getting yourself killed when some a-hole is swinging a ball bat. Having a .357 magnum handy will typically tip the scales in your favor.

Friendships. I remember a lady who once told me “If you say that again, I will never speak to you again.” I did, and she didn't. Well, she was true to her word. But her word wasn't worth the time of day. I would rather be admired for being true to my word with some honor attached to it. I am no saint, but I don't deal in lies, or in half-truths. I am often silent in preference to being brutally honest. This much I know: friendships are built on trust. It took me a long time to cultivate trust with my closest friends (and two of them are cats). I wouldn't trade their friendship for anything (especially the cats).

Happiness. The ologists will likely hate me for this, but that's their problem. Happiness is not a romp in the hay, or sky diving, or landing a left hook on the jaw of your worst enemy. Those are thrills to be savored when they happen—if they happen. Happiness is different. It's the inner joy that comes from knowing you are doing the best you can with what you have to work with. That's it. Another wise old bird (anonymous) once said: “The richest person is not the one who has the most, but the one who needs the least.” I find that remark so tolerable, and so filled with wisdom, the speaker would instantly win my friendship.  It also makes me so very happy knowing my poverty has not been wasted.