What a 92-year-old memoirist looks like

Lunch with Margie today as she's about to celebrate her 92nd birthday. Changes this year: she quit driving her car, and she retired from teaching Tai Chi, though she still practices at home. "Aging," she told me, "sits heavily on me some days, as it's all about letting go. Letting go of the car was hard. I'm glad you encouraged me to write my story, because I can spend the rest of my years, if I have them, editing it; but it's basically done, and I have a kind of apology," she laughed, "or explanation to leave my children. That's a relief." 

Despite the bad air in Portland today, she kept our appointment to meet for lunch, and she was delighted to report that when she stopped wearing tri-focals, the dizziness she'd been experiencing went away. She is still "editing"  her memoir and mentioned that a friend of hers who is 88 just got her first novel commercially published. 

After lunch with Margie, I met with a German woman who has been living in Portland for the past year, working on a novel. The purpose of our meeting was for me to talk with Eske about her work, but she turned the table on me and asked why I haven't written my own story. "Many people dream of leaving their jobs and going on some adventure or pilgrimage that will change them. You left a tenure-track academic job, went to Africa, didn't come back for six years, and paid a tremendous price for it, in terms of your career." 

"A price I was glad to pay," I said. 

"But it's not the kind of comfortable, happy ending you get in Eat, Pray, Love. It's financially insecure. So you're living the very thing that keeps most people from doing it, but you seem to be at peace with it," she explained. "If you told your story, I think it would be interesting to others who have such dreams. Maybe it would give them courage." Coming right on the heels of my discussion with Margie, Eske's challenge took me by surprise. I'm thinking about it.