constellations #121: interview with a centenarian
Hi again.
In June of 1926—one hundred years ago—Marilyn Monroe was born. So was Allen Ginsberg. That same month, the very first SAT test was administered to university applicants. The New Yorker cost fifteen cents. At the Belmont Stakes, the colt Crusader—sired by the legendary racehorse Man o’ War (a name that is burned into my brain despite being a millennial horse girl of the non-racing variety; why is that?)—took home the trophy. And the United States was preparing, of course, to celebrate its sesquicentennial.
In that same month, my grandmother, Alice, was born. She celebrated her 100th birthday last week. She is remarkably sharp, kind, and funny; she has been this way for a century. She grew up in a small town in Massachusetts and was a homemaker as a young woman, raising five kids. Then, in midlife, her course shifted. She got divorced; she was finally able to follow her lifelong dream of attending college; she traveled the world. I have always admired this about her life: that its path never seemed to narrow. This is a commendable quality in someone of any age or era but it seems, to me, especially impressive for a woman who came of age when she did, saddled with all the expectations that entailed and bearing witness to such a wide range of paradigm shifts around her. (I’m no biologist, but part of me believes that’s the secret to her longevity: that she remained continually open to what life had to offer, that she did not just slump into fate and become idle.)
These days, her house is scattered with knick-knacks and souvenirs from around the globe, though Alice no longer travels as she once did. She lives, as ever, in the town where she raised her family, and all her children and nearly all her grandchildren (and great-grandchildren!) live close by, with a few notable exceptions, including me (~200 miles away) and my little brother, Jarred (~3000 miles away). Still, for being the farthest away, my brother is particularly close with her: They call each other on the phone once a week and talk about the birds at her birdfeeder, the books she recently checked out from the library, his research on neuroscience. I feel so charmed by their intergenerational friendship and by the depth of their connection; it’s really beautiful to witness.
Alice is thoughtful and sensitive and generous; she is attentive and astute; she does not suffer fools: basically, everything I would like to be—today, and if, by some miracle, I reach the age of 100. To celebrate this occasion, I asked if I could interview her about her life and her perspective on becoming a centenarian. Below, you can read our conversation about the changes she’s seen in the world, her advice for people of all ages, and her favorite book (edited, of course, for length and clarity).
***
Marissa Lorusso: I was wondering if you could begin by telling me about your childhood.
Alice Lorusso: Well, I was going to say something snide … [Laughs]. But I had a good childhood. We had lots of freedom in those days. There was a factory that blew a whistle at 6:30 in the morning and 6:30 at night. And the 6:30 at night whistle meant “come in the house.” It was a very different growing up than today, I think.
Well, that was going to be my next question: What do you think the differences are between when you were growing up and how kids grow up today?
I think—rightfully so—parents are a lot more cautious. I hope they are! Because it’s a different world, and children are not as safe as they were.
How has it felt to turn 100? What is it making you reflect on?
People ask me the secret of my long life, and I—jokingly—say “chocolate.” But I don’t really know. Obviously it’s genetic. My mother’s family, they lived into their 90s, and my dad’s, too. Also, I never really smoked. I smoked one cigarette, and I didn’t like the smell of it on my fingers.
How old were you when you did that?
My friend took a cigarette from her sister’s pack. We might have been 9 or 10, I don’t really remember. But we went out behind her garage and smoked. I hated it, thankfully.
I’m thinking about everything that’s happened in the world during your lifetime—what are some of the biggest changes that you’ve seen?
It’s hard not to observe the changes in the world. I don’t know whether it’s because we’re more aware of the whole world, because of the media.
I mean, I think what’s most disturbing to me is the kind of personal attacks on people. If you have a difference, that’s okay—you talk about the difference, not the person. I’m distressed by the kind of attacks that go on today.
And you think that’s more common now than when you were growing up?
Of course. I mean, as a child, you’re not aware of politics or what’s going on in the world, and we didn’t have dinnertime discussions about politics when I was growing up—or at least, in my house. But I do think it’s worse.
You and I have talked a lot about the changes for women that you’ve seen in your lifetime. Can you tell me a little bit about watching those changes happen?
I guess I must be a proponent of change for women, because of what I did with my own life. I mean, when I graduated from high school, I was an honor student. I had every qualification to go to college, but I didn’t think my parents could afford it—I guess, I knew they couldn’t. And nobody in my high school said, “You know, maybe you can get a scholarship.” But that desire for college never went away, and I went across the line one day, and said “I’m going back.”
It was a wonderful experience, because I wanted to be there so much. And I was the mother substitute, because kids would come up in the library and say, “Can I talk to you for a minute?”
How old were you when you went to college?
I was in my 50s.
And why did you choose to go when you did?
It had been a dream of mine to go to college. And people would say, “Well, you know, you’re going to be 54 when you finish.” But I said, “Well, I’m going to be 54 anyway—and I will have accomplished something.” It was interesting to me, socially—when we would be out for dinner or meet people, the men were much more complimentary than the women, and that strikes me as strange.
Why do you think that was?
Maybe because it wasn’t their wife; I don’t know.
But I think there’s still a lot of work to do—and sometimes it’s subtle, the discrimination. I don’t know what the answers are.
Are there other changes you’ve noticed that make you feel optimistic? Or pessimistic—maybe it’s overwhelming pessimism. [Laughs]
One of the things I’ve noticed—I guess it started years before I realized it—is that young people are not, in my experience, as prejudiced as they used to be. And I think that starts in the family. I mean, you don’t have to be taught everything—you learn it. And I’ve been taken up by some of my grandchildren who suggested, “What difference does it make what their background is?”—and I think there’s a great possibility there.
What has surprised you about aging?
That’s a good question. I don’t know if I have a good answer, but I think I’ve become a lot more tolerant. I think I’ve learned a lot from my children and grandchildren.
And although I hate to admit it, when you have health issues, one thing I’ve really learned is you have to give up something to get something that’ll be better for you. That’s a hard one.
Tell me more about that.
Well, I think I’m independent, but my children tell me I’m stubborn. [Laughs.] But to live in my own house at 100 years old—that’s wonderful. It’s a blessing, and I’m grateful for it. I couldn’t do that if I didn’t have people in my life that take care of me. For example, I can’t drive anymore. That was a choice I made when I had the pacemaker put in. I couldn’t drive for a month, so I thought: That’s a good time to do it.
Ok, I’m going to ask you for some advice—a bunch of different kinds of advice. So, to start: What is advice you would give to a teenager today?
When you’re contemplating something, think 10 years ahead—when you look back, what you would think of that action?
What advice would you give to someone in their 20s or 30s?
Don’t be afraid to ask questions. People have a lot of experience and knowledge. Think carefully about what you set out to do.
What advice would you give someone in middle age?
Don’t plan on a great retirement. If you’re so involved in work that you don’t have hobbies or interests—one thing is, you may not get to retire, because you may die. So live now. I don’t mean to abandon your responsibilities, but live, because you don’t know what old age is going to be like until you get there.
And finally: What advice would you give to someone who is entering old age?
Just enjoy your life. Do it! Because you don’t want to look back and say, I wish I had… So, if you can, enjoy yourself.
Was there ever a point for you where you looked back and thought, I wish I had…?
Well, I think sometimes you handle things at the time with the information and the opportunities you have. But … well, I don’t mean to sound like I’m so wonderful, but I don’t really have a lot of regrets.
My last question: What do you wish more young people knew or understood about life?
It’s not always going to go the way you think it is, and sometimes you learn as much from a negative experience as a positive one. Find somebody you trust; get some advice. It could be your parents, or could be in addition to your parents, but always make sure to talk things over.
Ok, and actually, one more, since Jarred also wanted to ask: What’s the best meal you’ve ever had?
All right. I was on the North Shore, and somebody served swordfish, and it was fresh from the ocean, and it was the best swordfish I ever had.
When was this?
20 years ago.
That’s a great answer. [At this point I asked my mom and my brother, who were hanging out with us, if they had any additional questions to ask.]
Jarred Lorusso: I have one. You are obviously a big reader. Is there one book you wish you could read again for the first time?
Yes—Man’s Search for Meaning.
Marissa Lorusso: Oh, wow. And so, a follow-up question: Is there a book you would recommend that everyone read?
[She points to a book sitting on the table in front of her—it’s a copy of Man’s Search for Meaning.]
Ok, same book. Makes sense. Well, I’m going to read it. And thank you so much for talking to me.
Thank you also. I think this was my first time ever doing a formal interview.
Wow! Pretty great to still be doing new things for the very first time at 100 years old.
Yes, I suppose so.
Here are some other things I have been consuming lately: Man’s Search for Meaning by Viktor Frankl, of course, on Alice’s recommendation; Such Great Heights: The Complete Cultural History of the Indie Rock Explosion by Chris DeVille; “Que Bello!” by Bellows; bitknot by feeble little horse; Grandma’s Marathon in Duluth, Minn. (my first marathon!); a really good sandwich from Little Bird in Minneapolis; drinks at Kinda Nice in Williamsburg (lovely new bar, opened by a friend of a friend, highly recommend); a set of summer mood boards shared among friends; the first season of The Real Housewives of Rhode Island (insane, incredible); several movies: I Love Boosters, Hackers, I Shot Andy Warhol, Something You Should Know About Me, Maddie’s Secret, By Hook or by Crook
***
This time last year I was: hating on AI writing; and before that: thinking about my past selves, feeling nostalgic, learning new words, contemplating hibernation, & being a late bloomer
***
Thanks for reading, and thanks again to my grandmother for speaking with me, and thanks to my brother for the questions about the meal and the book. I hope you find her advice helpful! See you next 24th.
xo,
M


