In the midst of a pandemic that has shortened lifespans, some still live very long lives

By Mahlon Meyer
Northwest Asian Weekly

Gene Moy pedals his exercycle 100 times each day (Photo by Mahlon Meyer/NWAW)

Atop the dusty, blackened plastic top of the television, the glint of the medal is unrecognizable in the gloom of the late afternoon. But when Gene Moy, 104, lies back on his equally depleted dark sofa to watch sports flicker across the screen, he keeps his eye peeled on it the entire time.

The U.S. Congressional Gold Medal he was awarded for his five years of service during World War II may mean little to outsiders. But to him, it has come to mean everything.

“It made me feel I did something for my country,” he said.

Before the pandemic, Moy would still go dancing twice a week, rousting himself up with energy drinks. He still cooked his own food, every meal, which his children believed helped him to live so long.

But now he eats “horribly,” said his daughter—mostly take out—and he walks with a walker three or four times around his home each day. There is no more dancing.

What keeps one alive during the pandemic, at a time when life seems hopeless to many, is something Moy has had a long time to figure out.

Like several others interviewed for this article, it is a combination of habits and practices along with values, such as persistence and even honor, that seem to matter. Those same values have ensured that all three interviewed are fully vaccinated with boosters.

Stephen Yu, a research associate professor in the division of gerontology and geriatric medicine at the University of Washington School of Medicine, said growing old healthily depends on exercising, eating a balanced diet, and working the brain like a muscle.

Exercise allows the body to remove excess waste, “like a garbage truck,” he said, while a healthy diet should exclude too much fat and oil.

And even if one has a stressful job or lacks resources, one can still do one thing each day for enjoyment—that helps reduce stress.

But for Moy and others—even those significantly younger—while such practices are essential, they seemed much more involved in their quests to live long lives.

While the pandemic reduced the expected life span of the average American by almost two years in 2020, according to federal data, from roughly 79 to 77, as well as severely changing lives—some, like Moy, have found reasons to live on.

Duty and veneration

C.C. Tien (Photo by Mahlon Meyer/NWAW)

C.C. Tien, a retired engineer and president of a cultural foundation that publishes a periodical about Chinese American relations, turned 94 in January and continues to practice many of the habits that have kept him looking much younger than his age.

He walks with his wife, he practices a form of qigong (breathing and meditation) he developed himself, and he collects articles for his publication, the Chinese American Forum.

But it is a sense of duty and veneration that seems to animate him. Tien has just completed, with other branches of his family, a decades-long project of publishing a book about his ancestors reaching back to the beginnings of recorded history in China.

Interested in the secrets of longevity himself, he found that his great great grandmother lived to 106—and received recognition from the emperor of the Qing dynasty. But those of his ancestors who held high office and led stressful lives lived much fewer years.

Some of them also were role models. And on a more personal level, when Tien was born, his great grandfather, at the age of 82, walked 20 miles to come see him, bringing gifts.

Today, Tien looks after the health of his family by monitoring their blood pressures and blood oxygen levels, as well as finding creative ways to exercise, such as taking shopping trips—during which everyone walks.

“Visual stimulation is very important,” he said.

Persistence

Shiao-Yen Wu (Photo from Shiao-Yen Wu)

Shiao-Yen Wu, entering a period when she could see old age on the horizon, needed more determination than she had ever shown. After a misdiagnosis and a failed operation, one of her eyeballs turned so far inward that it was invisible. Behind her sunglasses, lurked the fear she would face the rest of her life blind.

She had just turned 70.

A real estate developer, activist, and philanthropist, she said she never doubted that she could be cured.

“I did not entertain a negative thought,” she said. “I just thought how can I be cured.”

She interviewed 30 doctors before finding one at UCLA, whom she was confident in and who had confidence.

“Some doctors would say they could help me 50%, others 70%, but I never stopped until I found one that said 100%,” she said.

“Sometimes you have a feeling about someone. It was like that with this doctor, like a miracle.”

Today, eight years later, she has 95% of her vision back and continues to practice many of the habits that contribute to a long life.

Fifty percent of her meals are vegetables. She only eats until she is three-quarters full. And she swims three times a week and does yoga and sees a personal trainer once a week.

But like Tien, she finds the fulfillment of her passion in nurturing others. She cares for the multiple dogs she has rescued and gives monthly to the Seattle Humane Society. She puts in significant hours working for community colleges, raising money and making donations, as well as leading the local chapter of a national organization that sends students on scholarships to Washington, D.C.

“You’ve got to give back,” she said.

Looking for the positive

There is one other thing, besides service and honor, that keeps Moy going.

When asked the secret of longevity, he laughed and said, “God, I don’t know. If I knew, I’d write a book on it.”

When probed further for the secret to his good humor, he thought about it for a moment, then said, “I’m mostly agreeable with most people. I usually give in before they do.”

Wu, too, believes that life, and especially long life, is all about attitude.

“You’ve got to focus on the positive,” she said.

Mahlon can be reached at info@nwasianweekly.com.

This health series is made possible by funding from the Washington State Department of Health, which has no editorial input or oversight of this content.