Isn’t this a version of May Sarton’s: Old Age is a Foreign Country from 1997? It’s not a new theme and has been explored in many novels including the later chapters of William Boyd’s Any Human Heart which, looking at book threads here, many people have read.
There’s an alternate view expressed by Ann Richardson in this piece:
sixtyandme.com/old-age-not-another-country/
She says: Yes, there are aspects of my life that are different, but I don’t feel that I am wandering in a strange land. And there is a great deal that is very much the same.
You get used to one thing, absorb that, and start getting used to another. There are very few shocks involved, in the absence of a significant death or illness, which is another matter altogether.
Is it so very different from the transition from childhood to adulthood when we start having to be responsible for looking after ourselves, going to work, managing the bills etc.
Like Clough I was a hill walker. I no longer have the stamina to do that and, while I miss it, other pleasures have taken its place.
So while I understand what Clough is saying in Oldenland:
Whilst there are a lot of books that cover the topic of 'how to have a good death', there is little that offers us advice on the time period that comes before that. How do we learn to actually be old? How do we spend our later years in a meaningful way that makes sense of who we've been and who we are now? Not in blithely positive denial in the face of our physical and cognitive decline, or overtaken with regret of a life that's running down the clock, but empowered to not lose who we are; to say 'I am still me'. And, if we have not yet arrived at its borders, how can we better understand those who live there, and better prepare ourselves for a future when we will become citizens too?
I just see older age as another phase of my life in the same country. It’s rather refreshing in some respects not to have to worry about many of the things that concerned me when I was younger.