CATCHING UP

A couple of months ago, after telling Ed I feared I’d taken on too much volunteer work, I watched myself, as if I were a character in a movie, pick up my phone and begin organizing a fundraiser for Ukraine at my church. For the next six weeks, I spent close to every waking moment and a chunk of my nighttime ones immersed in figuring out the oh so many moving parts, in a role I’d never played before.

During my planning, I turned seventy-five. Three quarters of a century old. Given my past proclivities for things likely to lead to an early death, I thanked God and my caring husband for helping me change course in my mid-thirties to living life rather than destroying it. Ed and I took a brief trip to Astoria, Oregon to celebrate, and, though it was fun, I spent a chunk of time working on the fundraiser rather than, as I’d planned, writing in my motel room while looking out the window at ships on the Columbia River.

The takeout dinner fundraiser was a sweet success, raising significant money for Ukraine and bringing together volunteers from the church and surrounding community. I relaxed for maybe two days and then went back to planning events for the Inclusion Committee at church, working with my thirteen-year-old mentee, cooking for the Homeless Shelter, taking voice lessons and singing “June is Bustin’ Out All Over”, and beginning a new project—podcasts centered around how authors can write characters of other races authentically and respectfully. Whew.

I used to teach Erik Erikson’s theory of psychosocial development and was telling another retired therapist friend that it feels strange to now be in the last stage, “Maturity”. I had forgotten details of the Maturity stage, so I refreshed my memory. According to Erikson, “Integrity v. Despair” is what I should be grappling with in this final stage. “Have I had a satisfying, productive life with few regrets?” or “Am I regretful, unfulfilled, scared of death?” If the conflict is resolved successfully, then the Mature person acquires “Wisdom.” Yep, that I remembered.

What I didn’t remember is that, according to Erikson, the Maturity stage starts at age sixty-five. Ten years ago, for me. Seriously? With my extensive volunteer work and church involvement, the love of children and grandchildren I’ve adopted as my own, and my passions for reading and writing and watching films of all sorts, I act a whole lot more like I’m in the stage prior to Maturity.

The Generative stage, Erikson calls that stage, in which we create or nurture things that will outlast us, often by having children or effecting beneficial change for others. That fits better. But, though I’m not a stickler for the “accuracy” of developmental theories nor the time frames that accompany them, I’m still curious as to why I’m ten years behind in my psychosocial development.

As I’ve pondered, I remembered something I first heard in 1985, the year I sobered up. According to the folks at AA, alkies don’t develop emotionally while they’re drinking. So, numbed and scrambled by substances, my development halted for quite a while and then, in sobriety, has been working ever since to catch up.

And then, I had another memory. I was around thirty, shopping for beer and other essentials at the Jitney Jungle grocery store in Jackson, Mississippi. Hungover, mired in misery, facing another night of a sort of awful nothingness, I felt something, seemingly out of the blue, akin to hope, only better. I remember that the lights seemed a little brighter as I stopped pushing the cart, stood still in the aisle, and thought, “What if everything turned out all right? What if I turned out all right? What if I were happy? I could be happy. I could.”

And it did. And I am. With work and good fortune and the help of people who loved me, I found out what it’s like to engage the world in satisfying, often joy-filled ways. And I’m now proud to tell people that I am unashamedly Developmentally Delayed. But that I’m catching up—and eternally grateful.

I hope you’re still reading my writings when I turn eighty-five and announce that I am finally, officially Mature. And satisfied with my integrity. And wise. Very, very wise.

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