Pat Taub
Maine, where I live, is familiar to many as the grayest state in the nation. What is often overlooked in this statistic is the phenomenal number of elder women who continue to create art and live meaningful lives through their 70’s, 80’s and 90’s. Maine’s old women continue to inspire me as I move through my 70’s.
In this spirit I’m sharing some passages from a new book of poems by Janet Shea of Tenants Harbor, Maine and a poem by Joanne Booth from Portland. Both women are in their ninth decade. Their active, lively minds and cheerful spirit are a joy to behold.
Janet Shea’s collection of poems, Prayers of a Roadside Contemplative, were born from her decision to burn her diaries, spanning 60 years, rather than have them read and misinterpreted by her family after she died. Janet burnt them in batches, in the winter in her wood stove and in the summer over the last embers of that day’s charcoal-grilled dinner. Before she threw her diaries into the fire, she culled them for meaning, developing poems from key passages in each journal.
Janet was raised Catholic, attending daily morning masses as a child. As an adult she stopped going to church, but her strong connection to God and the holy are woven through her poetry as in the poem,
Enigma 
How does one find consolation
in the silence of God,
despite the silence
of God?
Each of Janet’s poems is a small jewel, making it difficult to choose ones for this post. That said, another favorite is:
Dwelling Place
Loneliness,
Sorrow,
Heartache.
These are okay places to be
as a resident of the state
of grace.
To remain in the state of grace
does not mean to be without
pain.
It does mean to be
without rancor.
In Solitude 
Frayed edges of my life
cascade into folds
at my feet.
Than there’s this short prayer,
Dear God
Deliver me from the addiction
of might-have-beens
allow me to tread softly
through my days, to rest
easy in my life and
in my work
I am so damn tired
of hard.
Worthy or Not 
Dear God,
perhaps when You have some time
You would enter
my heart, close the door
behind You
and
stay for awhile.
Joanne Booth has been writing poetry her whole life. She gave me permission to publish this poem of hers about aging.
Identity Check
Age does not define us.
We are more—much more—than our age.
Who we are is
What we value most deeply
What we laugh at
How often we smile
What we fantasize about.
Who we are is
The caring time we spend with our families
The friends we like to be with
Where and how we spend our vacations.
Who we are is
What movies we like
What exercise delights us
What books speak to us.
Who we are is
What career we choose
What subjects makes us glow
The person we’d choose to be with us
On the mythical “desert island.”
Each achievement, each illness
Each despondent phase, each moment of passion
Each inner struggle, each rewarding success
These are what create our identities,
Age does not define us.
If you’d like more conversations with like-minded women, we have a Facebook page for you: WOW (Women’s Older Wisdom.
