I’ve been thinking and writing about my realization that I’m not just old, but more advanced in years than what it takes to be considered old, a status I’ve called “being old-old.” I continue to think about what is changing in my life as I come to terms with that awareness. I have written so far about travel and time. Now I would like to say something about the relational aspects of being old-old.

I’ve been aware for years that people who are much younger than me are becoming less interested in interacting with me. In particular, I noticed a change when I moved to Milwaukee a little over two years ago. For eight years prior to the move, I was a member of a church in Grand Rapids, Michigan, where I then lived. I didn’t have much difficulty connecting with people at the Grand Rapids church, interacting regularly with young adults and up, all the way to those a few years older than me. I joined committees, growth groups, and ministries, which probably helped with making connections, but I also knew quite a few young people not in any of those smaller circles with whom I could at least exchange pleasantries.

After moving, I visited a few churches, then settled on one that I have been attending. In pretty much all of the churches I visited, not many people who looked under the age of about 50 interacted with me, even when I stood around after the service in hopes that someone would initiate a conversation. At the church I now attend, there aren’t too many people who are old, much less old-old. I do know and interact with quite a few of the older congregants. In contrast, the only people who are young or even early in middle age who will start a conversation with me are those with whom I’ve connected in some small group setting—a Bible study, a growth group, or my housemates. The church is about the same size as the Grand Rapids church when I started going there, and the two are similar demographically, so my hypothesis is that younger people here are less friendly because I look older than I did ten years ago.

So looking old seems to be a social barrier in large social gatherings. How about the relationships in the smaller groups that I’ve been in? People have welcomed me there, and seem interested in getting to know me. In both the Bible study and the growth group, there is opportunity to share thoughts about scripture passages, spiritual formation, and life challenges. In those groups, my comments have been very well received. If anything, I’m given more deference and respect than I received in similar groups through the years. I’m not sure why. Is what I’m sharing more pertinent or useful? Maybe so, since I have more time to think and reflect beforehand about whatever the topic of meeting will be. Or perhaps I’m given more deference because of my age. The contrast with large social settings is remarkable, though. In large groups, I’m ignored. In small groups, I’m valued.

I mentioned a few paragraphs ago that there were some housemates who attend church with me. I live in Barnabas House, a Christian community, with six other people, all but one male, all single. Five of us go to the same church. The house was in fact founded by two members of the church in 2016, and it is a ministry of the church. I joined the community in 2023, when I moved to Milwaukee. We residents are spread across a wide age range, with me as the oldest, one person in his 60s, two in their 30s, and two in their 20s.

What’s it like living mostly with those half my age or younger? Surprisingly, there are more commonalities than differences. I don’t talk to or about the youngest housemates as if their youth disqualifies them from acting sensibly or thinking seriously, and they don’t treat me as if I’m antiquated and out of touch. They seem to value it when I offer observations about life, probably because I try to offer them tentatively and deferentially. I don’t do as much with them as they do with each other—no video, board, or card games for me—but we’re together for a couple of meals a week, morning and sometimes evening prayer, movie night, and informal conversations around the house. The youngest one tells me that he sometimes forgets about my age. I take that as a compliment. I’m old-old, he’s just figuring adulthood out, but we connect as emotional, volitional, spiritual beings—as humans. There’s a richness to that that I deeply value. Being old-old seems to have mixed effects on relationships, but for the most part my experiences have been positive.

I haven’t talked in this post about closer relationships–family, close friends, or romantic relationships. I’ll try to write something about those as well.