Northwest Prime Time is proud to present a new column by Margaret Larson, the longtime host of KING‘s New Day Northwest. Her impressive 35-year career included stints as a London-based foreign correspondent for NBC News and as a news anchor for the Today show, as well as a reporter for Dateline NBC and anchor at KING 5. She retired last year, but now Margaret will regularly bring Northwest Prime Time readers her thoughts about life in retirement and other musings.
Do you remember what you thought about life after 50 or 60 and beyond when you were a kid? I do, and it makes me cringe a little bit. My primary impression was that life in your later years represented a struggle against dwindling opportunities, health and resources. A fight for ‘enough.’ And indeed, vulnerability is part of this stage of life. But it is so, so much more.
Just over a year ago, I decided to retire, bought a house over the internet and moved across the country during a pandemic to attend to family needs. I watched friends, neighbors and strangers make hard decisions because of COVID, devastation to businesses, unexpected job loss. Parents wrestled with job responsibilities, childcare and distance learning, all under one roof. Young adults dealt with delays in education and employment, amid increasing levels of depression and anxiety. And most importantly, millions of people faced illness and death. If ever there was a time to reassess one’s life and circumstances, this was it.
But out of 2020, the year we couldn’t get rid of fast enough, grew green shoots of common goodness. In my own circle of friends and among people I covered on KING’s New Day Northwest and elsewhere, the helpers emerged. People sewing masks to donate, innovators helping businesses change to meet new needs, groups of friends bringing meals and letters of thanks to exhausted health professionals. And particularly, I noticed elders stepping forward with their own stories of survival and resilience, drawing from a life resource that was not merely ‘enough’ in later years, but plentiful: hope, born not of fairy dust but of hard-earned, real-life experience.
It’s difficult to imagine anyone reaching their later years without enduring some of the toughest experiences life can dish out. We’ve all demonstrated the grit to make it through and learned lessons that only time can teach. And if we can sift through those lessons and blend in compassion and kindness, we can find our own unique reservoir of hope to sustain ourselves and those coming up behind us.
Yes, (eyeroll) I now know I should have worn sunscreen and eaten fewer cinnamon rolls, but that’s not what’s unique. Each of us has learned to survive setbacks and recover from tragedy and loss, in our own ways. We know that difficult times are not forever. We recognize that our human connections, the love we feel, the vast expanse of a parent’s heart are the places of sanctuary and resilience. Those are the places of plentitude. That is what we can share and nurture in others.
Maybe that is our calling at this time of life. Our bodies might not be as strong as they were decades ago, but our souls certainly are. It costs nothing to offer a word of encouragement, to be kind or to listen and help, and yet the dividends are huge and will outlast us in the end. So, please know that this time of life is a time of opportunity. All that you’ve been through, all that you’ve seen and felt, has brought you here to offer kindness and reflection in the world. You are not merely enough. You are plenty. ❖
Connect with Margaret Larson at
• www.facebook.com/margaretlarson.newday
• @Margaret_Larson on Instagram
• @_MargaretLarson on Twitter
• https://mentor.cam/margaretlarson
Do you remember what you thought about life after 50 or 60 and beyond when you were a kid? I do, and it makes me cringe a little bit. My primary impression was that life in your later years represented a struggle against dwindling opportunities, health and resources. A fight for ‘enough.’ And indeed, vulnerability is part of this stage of life. But it is so, so much more.
Just over a year ago, I decided to retire, bought a house over the internet and moved across the country during a pandemic to attend to family needs. I watched friends, neighbors and strangers make hard decisions because of COVID, devastation to businesses, unexpected job loss. Parents wrestled with job responsibilities, childcare and distance learning, all under one roof. Young adults dealt with delays in education and employment, amid increasing levels of depression and anxiety. And most importantly, millions of people faced illness and death. If ever there was a time to reassess one’s life and circumstances, this was it.
But out of 2020, the year we couldn’t get rid of fast enough, grew green shoots of common goodness. In my own circle of friends and among people I covered on KING’s New Day Northwest and elsewhere, the helpers emerged. People sewing masks to donate, innovators helping businesses change to meet new needs, groups of friends bringing meals and letters of thanks to exhausted health professionals. And particularly, I noticed elders stepping forward with their own stories of survival and resilience, drawing from a life resource that was not merely ‘enough’ in later years, but plentiful: hope, born not of fairy dust but of hard-earned, real-life experience.
It’s difficult to imagine anyone reaching their later years without enduring some of the toughest experiences life can dish out. We’ve all demonstrated the grit to make it through and learned lessons that only time can teach. And if we can sift through those lessons and blend in compassion and kindness, we can find our own unique reservoir of hope to sustain ourselves and those coming up behind us.
Yes, (eyeroll) I now know I should have worn sunscreen and eaten fewer cinnamon rolls, but that’s not what’s unique. Each of us has learned to survive setbacks and recover from tragedy and loss, in our own ways. We know that difficult times are not forever. We recognize that our human connections, the love we feel, the vast expanse of a parent’s heart are the places of sanctuary and resilience. Those are the places of plentitude. That is what we can share and nurture in others.
Maybe that is our calling at this time of life. Our bodies might not be as strong as they were decades ago, but our souls certainly are. It costs nothing to offer a word of encouragement, to be kind or to listen and help, and yet the dividends are huge and will outlast us in the end. So, please know that this time of life is a time of opportunity. All that you’ve been through, all that you’ve seen and felt, has brought you here to offer kindness and reflection in the world. You are not merely enough. You are plenty. ❖
Connect with Margaret Larson at
• www.facebook.com/margaretlarson.newday
• @Margaret_Larson on Instagram
• @_MargaretLarson on Twitter
• https://mentor.cam/margaretlarson