My grandfather, the late William Winters, made his living as a sharecropper, moving from farm to farm throughout central Minnesota in the early part of the last century. He was, by all accounts, a pretty lousy farmer, a bit of a raconteur and the only person I’ve ever known who smoked cheap cigars by stuffing them into the bowl of his pipe.
By the time I met him in the 1950s, Grandpa was living in a tiny hovel next to a junkyard in Monticello, Minn. I soon learned that he liked a little whiskey after Sunday dinner, kept chickens and, briefly, a milking cow, in his back yard, and he was not above flirting with young women.
He was one of my first great role models.
That wasn’t because of his general disregard for social convention or his utter lack of ambition — though some of that may have rubbed off on me. What really made an impression on me was how calm he always seemed to be. How nothing seemed to get under his skin. Here was a guy who, by almost any measurement, had struggled and repeatedly failed at his life’s work and, yet, I never heard him express any regrets about his past or voice any concerns about his future.
And when he died, at the age of 93, he was in full possession of all his faculties.
Grandpa Winters came to mind recently, when I stumbled upon a new study from the University of Edinburgh that linked stress to memory loss. Researchers there showed how two receptors in the aging brain react to the stress hormone cortisol. They found that a certain level of cortisol activated one of the receptors, improving memory. But prolonged high levels of the hormone activated a second receptor that led to memory loss.
“While we know that stress hormones affect memory, this research explains how the receptors they engage with can switch good memory to poorly-functioning memory in old age,” said Dr. Joyce Yau of the Centre of Cardiovascular Science.
It’s just another reminder to pay attention to your stress levels as you move into middle age — or any other age, for that matter. (We already know how elevated levels of cortisol can cause inflammation and a whole host of serious health problems.) There are all sorts of stress management techniques out there; I’ve found meditation and exercise to be particularly effective.
I’m not entirely sure how Grandpa Winters stayed so centered. Maybe it was a lifetime of hard work or a generally positive outlook on the world. I’m really hoping it wasn’t the cigars.
Pumping Irony
Craig Cox, EL’s managing editor and resident geezer, explores the joys and challenges of aging well.
Monthly Archives: April 2011
Thanks for the Memory
Sudden Death
An old buddy of mine died recently. We’d grown up together, played Little League baseball (he was our first baseman; I played second) and backyard football. And though we’d lost touch after our college years, it was still a bit of a shocker. At the funeral, his sister described his two months in the hospital after what appeared to be a stroke morphed into a fatal brain aneurysm. He was 59 and left behind a wife, three grown children, a couple of grandkids.
With all the alarming data we see these days about how unhealthy Americans are, it’s tempting on these occasions to shake your head sadly and think about all the ways this guy could’ve extended his life — better diet, more exercise, etc. — but I don’t know what kind of shape Phil was in. If the photos at the funeral were any indication, he didn’t have a weight problem. He looked like what you’d expect a guy pushing 60 would look like: gray hair, a little jowly, but hanging in there. Not the kind of guy you’d expect to kick off anytime soon.
But he did. Stroke, aneurysm, gone. Just like that.
It gives one pause, of course. There really are no guarantees. I might be in the best shape of my life, but it won’t matter much if I get hit by a truck on my way home from the gym. Or if some wayward batch of blood cells decides to gum up the works somewhere in my pea-sized brain.
Anything can happen, so I don’t see much good coming from dwelling on this stuff. We’re all going to die. So, seize the day, stay in the moment, and all that. And as much as I’d prefer to play things out here on this mortal plane for a few more years, I understand that I only have so much influence. But that doesn’t mean I won’t continue to hit the gym, work on my jump shot, and pretend I’m a lot younger than I am.
After all, if you gotta go, why not go out at the top of your game?
