Written by: Vanessa Cuppari
Perhaps my four feet three-inch-tall
memory is biased, but the tomato plants towered in the air, drooped over my head,
and tickled my shoulder as we moved between the walls of the garden. Immersed
in overgrown vegetables, I followed my grandfather as he lumbered ahead,
careful to stay on slabs of cardboard lining the dirt. We were checking the
status of the blackberry bush again: this time, he kneeled in the soil and clasped
one in his burly fingers for inspection. Heavy creases around his forehead and
temple drowned out his eyes—only ever really opening in surprise—so I could
never tell if he is squinting or just looking. Whether he knew it or not, his
grip was a little too tight, and a few tears leaked slowly down the side of the
berry. He mumbled something excitedly in a language I did not understand and
signaled me over his shoulder.
After a few rounds of
pneumonia at this point, he was about to stop smoking, but overall, PopPop was
in surprisingly good health. By his late seventies, his hair showed more pepper
than salt, and he maintained a perpetual bronze skin tone; most of his time was
spent tending the garden or cementing the cracks in the driveway, the wine
cellar, and the basement kitchen. He and my grandmother immigrated to the
United States sixty years earlier, but his English, fragmented and unclear, routinely
melted into an obscure Italian dialect. He tried; what wisdom he could not verbalize
he compensated for by sneaking fifty-dollar bills into our fists (“for ice
cream,” he’d say) and walking us to the park around the corner. And yet, he had
a few signature phrases: “eat,” “get strong,” and “we love you.” Somehow, my grandfather managed to avoid
chronic medications until he was diagnosed with lung cancer in 2018. He passed
a few months later at eighty-six.
A century ago, when the average
life expectancy for American men was a mere sixty,
hitting eighty-six was unlikely. Today, his age (the “oldest-old”)
and cause of death are unsurprising among gerontologists, given that the older adult
population has exploded
14-fold since 1900. Coupled with waning fertility
rates, the proportions slant heavily toward older adults. In a thirty-year span,
the median
age of the U.S. population rose from 28 to 37.8.
But how can this age
cohort grow at such a rapid pace? Simply put, they are staying alive longer
than they ever have. Medical advances successfully reduced
early mortality rates as well as championed vaccines and
antibiotics to fight once-fatal diseases. As a result, older adults’ chances at
survival increased significantly. Indeed, there are fifty
times more “oldest-old” Americans (85+) than there were in 1900, and the
proportions are projected to continue growing.
Even so, modern medicine is
not the only means of achieving longevity in old age, as gerontologists are beginning
to approach health through a holistic lens. Although the treat-and-discharge
practice is more prevalent among physicians currently, care using social
services makes a difference. Patients restructure their behaviors to promote a
healthier lifestyle and, in the long-term, prevent their chances of illness. Beyond
the medical necessities, meeting
physical, social, psychological, and cognitive needs helps
older adults live longer.
Consider the social needs
that the grandparent role satisfies as the grandchild’s historian,
nurturer, and friend. Could the building of intergenerational
bonds (and alternatives,
for those without biological grandchildren) enhance one’s life expectancy? Although
some grandparents who act as primary caregivers to their grandchildren experience
greater pressure and stress, the majority benefit
from non-intensive
provision of care, or involving themselves at their own
pace.
Living across town, Nanny,
my maternal grandmother, entwined herself in our lives easily with surprise
visits. Sometimes she dropped off Entenmenn’s cakes (for me) and three boxes of
Cheerios (for my mother) that she found on sale at ShopRite; sometimes she
sought black coffee and conversation after work; sometimes it was an invitation
to get mani-pedis at Kim’s, or chocolate chip pancakes (for me) and a root beer
float (for her) at the diner. She was my safe place—the first person who
listened to me as if she had endless time and as if I were truly the most
fascinating person she knew. She passed at eighty-seven.
What drives this selflessness?
Researchers understand the motives behind non-intensive grandparental
caregiving (“helping
behavior”) through an evolutionary lens, pointing to the
ancestral goal of furthering longevity. Indeed, data from a 2017 Berlin Aging
Study revealed that mortality
hazards for grandparents providing non-intensive care were 37% lower than those
who did not. Some reference the grandmother
hypothesis, where post-reproductive women ensure
their own genetic transmission by helping raise their grandchildren
and teaching them prosocial behaviors in the process. Over the course of evolution,
the rewarding practice of grandmothering, alongside the increasing older adult
population’s influence, slowed
the somatic aging of humans overall and developed a generalized neurohormonal
circuitry deemed by Brown
et al. as the “caregiving system.”
According to the
caregiving system theory, humans are deeply sensitive to the needs of those who
are blood-related or otherwise familiar to us. The orbital frontal cortex (OFC)
in the brain analyzes
viscerally emotional stored memories to detect social bonds in our lives. In
our case, positive
interdependency (genetic linkage) solidifies the bond between two individuals
– meaning that increases in one’s wellbeing lead to increases in the other, and
vice versa. Once the bond is established, the amygdala identifies
when one member of the bond is in need and quickly activates
the medial-preoptic area of the hypothalamus (MPOA) into “auto-caregiving
mode.”
Because our behaviors and
cognitions are inherently
self-preservationist and avoidant to danger, activating the MPOA suppresses
those competing impulses to ensure the wellbeing of the other.
Individuals prioritize the allocation of resources not to themselves, but the
person they care about. Brown et al. connect this maternal override to animals
protecting their endangered cubs, but could it not also
exist in the self-sacrificial nature of grandparents?
Social bonds, based on
trust and positive fitness interdependence, also release oxytocin, the “love
hormone” strongly associated with not only trust and empathy, but also
helping behavior and stress-regulation. This neurotransmitter reduces
activity in the hypothalamic-pituitary-adrenal (HPA) axis, which controls
stress reactions, lowers blood pressure and cortisol levels, and accelerates
stress-related recovery.
Intergenerational
bonds bolster older adults with a sense of purpose, physical activity and
continued cognitive and social wit. While the social act of
caregiving for grandchildren is just one of several factors contributing to an
individual’s life expectancy, extensive evidence argues that the benefits of
non-intensive grandparenting extend beyond grandchildren. We enhance their
quality of life just as richly as they do ours.
The day I returned home
from a month studying in France—my first time away at sixteen—I saw, from the
backseat, Nanny’s petite figure waiting at the door, her varicose veins under
white embroidered capris and sandals. She had cataracts, so in the moments
before she could detect me I saw her perched in front of the glass, as if on
guard, and surveilling the yard intensely. When I came into view, she pushed
the door open, and weeping as I bent to hug her first, her baby.
I keep her and PopPop’s
prayer cards on hand. Perhaps it was not merely luck that kept them in my life
for so long, as I had once believed.
About the Author:
Vanessa Cuppari is a
psychology student at Loyola University Maryland. As an undergraduate, she
explores the geropsychology field through coursework, research, volunteering,
advocacy, and, of course, PLTC. When she has extra time, she enjoys solving
crossword puzzles and writing.
Works Cited:
Brown, Stephanie L. “The Human
Caregiving System: A Neuroscience Model of Compassionate Motivation and
Behavior.” Moving Beyond Self-Interest: Perspectives from Evolutionary
Biology, Neuroscience, and Social Sciences, edited by Michael Brown, Oxford
University Press, 2012, pp. 75–89.
Cameron, Kathleen. “100 Million
Healthier Lives.” Social Determinants of Health | Grantmakers in Aging,
2018, www.giaging.org/issues/social-determinants-of-health/.
Hilbrand, Sonja, et al. “A Study of
the Associations Among Helping, Health, and Longevity .” Elsevier Social
Science and Medicine, 2017, pp. 109–117.,
doi:https://doi.org/10.1016/j.socscimed.2017.06.035.
Hilbrand, Sonja, et al. “Caregiving
within and beyond the Family Is Associated with Lower Mortality for the
Caregiver: A Prospective Study.” Evolution and Human Behavior, vol. 38,
no. 3, 2017, pp. 397–403., doi:https://doi.org/10.1016/j.evolhumbehav.2016.11.010.
Hooyman, Nancy R., and H. Asuman
Kiyak. Social Gerontology: A Multidisciplinary Perspective. 10th
version, Pearson, 2017, Revel Social Gerontology,
revel-ise.pearson.com/courses/5febb3cd51ff03001a9e2d6e/pages/urn:pearson:entity:729a781d-1821-4d72-9c3f-528568071c03?source=contents.
Sands, Roberta
G, et al. “Factors
Associated with the Positive Well-Being of Grandparents Caring for Their
Grandchildren.” Journal of Gerontological Social Work, 2005, pp. 65–82.,
doi:https://doi.org/10.1300/J083v45n04_05.
Simpson, Kathy. Grandparent’s
Role With Grandchildren and Fulfillment for Everyone, 16 Oct. 2020,
extramile.thehartford.com/family/grandparenting/grandparenting-role/.
UC Berkeley. “Life Expectancy in the USA, 1900-98.” Life Expectancy in the USA, 1900-98, u.demog.berkeley.edu/~andrew/1918/figure2.html.
