“You are only as old as you feel.” I learned from a wonderful 95-year-old woman that you are only as old as your attitude.

I received a phone call requesting information about my women’s trip to Israel, a trip that specialized in both physical and spiritual activity, from a 95-year-old lady named Kitty. Oh-oh. I warned her: we’d be running from morning until night, eating dinner late and breakfast early. It would be a fast-paced experience, packed all day long. Long bus rides. Lots of learning sessions. She warned me in return: with all that activity, she was definitely up for it, but was I?

Our assumptions rose to the surface at our first pre-trip meeting. Ninety-five? Would we spend the trip worrying about her? Would she hold us back? Would we feel comfortable in her presence, to laugh or cry, letting our emotions show? Would she “mother” us all and somehow we’d feel patronized?

Our ageism cracked once we got to Israel. She led us in dancing at the top of the Ramon Crater. She was the first one to don the jangling scarf and learn belly dancing. She was the first one up on the camel, composing silly songs the whole ride to make us laugh. She squeezed every moment to its fullest. She asked pertinent questions, contributed to every session, sang every song, shlepped, laughed and cried, ate heartily and even drank at the bar with us more than once!

She was only disappointed when we wouldn’t let her climb Masada. We made her take the cable car. When I reached the top, she greeted me with the exclamation, “Rabbi, I could have done it! And I will next time!” She exuded joy and passion. She was the essence of “l’chaim” – to life. She inspired us all.

As we get older, we keep redefining what old is. I used to think 30 was old, then 40, then 50. Now I simply don’t know what “old” looks like anymore, because I’ve met people in their 40s who “act” old and people in their 90s who “act” young. But it’s good to grow older, because, given the alternative, who wouldn’t choose it?

No, not all older people will inspire us. Some are frail or ill, or have lost their memory. Some are truly crotchety old folks. Some don’t grow in wisdom – they don’t learn new ideas or try new things, and they’re stubborn and set in their ways. But they have attained a degree of experience that’s worth listening to, and they’ve lived through things we haven’t and don’t understand. Our community is, on the whole, wiser because of them, and we really don’t engage them they way we should.

“Rise before the aged one,” the Torah tells us. Kitty made us all stand up and look at ourselves anew.