Carole Baskerville Carson ’63: Reinventing life at 79
Carole Baskerville Carson ’63 found a way to transform her grief into a radical lifestyle move from California to France.
At age 79 I joined the 700,000 women who become widows annually in the U.S. In dealing with grief, I’ve discovered there’s no checklist that I can tick off to get back to full recovery. I can’t get over my loss any more than I could get over an amputation. Instead, I must find a new center of gravity.
In the three months after my husband died, I sold my big house (complete with a pool) and disposed of the possessions he and I had acquired during our 30 years of marriage. I live in a one-bedroom, furnished apartment near my son, his French wife, and two teenage grandchildren in Montpellier, France.
I’m reinventing myself. Instead of eating at six after the nightly news and retiring at 10 (as my husband and I did for years), I eat around eight with my extended family and seldom get to sleep before midnight. I study French on Duolingo most days and have a tutor.
My basic needs are met—a desk, plenty of paper, pens, my laptop, internet access, an international phone line, and a printer. And I have an ongoing commitment to write a monthly column for The Union, a newspaper in Nevada City. Plus, I have a novel to write.
As an unexpected gift resulting from processing grief, I have a greater appreciation for friends and family, both here and back in the U.S. I also have a keener awareness of how fragile and short life is, and I remember to give thanks that I’m alive when I awake in the morning. I feel stronger and more resilient because of what I’ve faced and overcome.
Most surprisingly, my health since moving to France has dramatically improved; I’ve stopped taking most of the prescriptions I needed before. Moreover, I don’t sweat the small stuff because the love of friends and family is all that really matters. “Things” mean less to me than ever. And I think I’ve learned to be kinder to those around me who’ve suffered a loss. Until now, I didn’t grasp what the other person was going through. In retrospect, I am embarrassed at my callousness.
I would not have chosen to be alone at this stage of my life. I miss my best friend terribly. But I also know that I’ll emerge a better person for having gone through the experience and having made a dramatic lifestyle change.
