Retiring doesn’t mean retreating

8/31/2022

Most senior citizens pushing a century might prefer to take it easy, but not Iris Swanson. At 91 years old, she’s busier than ever before.

“Whatever needs to be done that day, I just get up and thank God I’ve got the day, and let’s get on with it,” she said.

A life-long east-sider, Swanson has resided in her Pleasant Hill home since 1973. Each day is eventful when you’ve got as much family around as she has: 28 relatives within 2 miles, to be exact.

Her son, Marc, lives the closest: right across the street. Her oldest child, Sue, lives down the street, and another daughter, Cindee, lives 2 miles away. Also in Pleasant Hill are two of Iris’ three surviving siblings. Next door to one brother is a nephew, across the street a niece, down the street a brother-in law, north of him, a nephew — and that’s not even all of them. In her immediate family, Iris has three children, eight grandchildren and 20 great-grandchildren. The eldest great-grandchild is getting married next year, so a great-great-grandchild could soon be on the way. 

But don’t be mistaken: Swanson doesn’t need any reminders of her greatness.

“I already know that I’m a great grandma,” she joked.

The family memories made are countless. On a recent Friday, Iris and her grandchildren gathered around her well-worn dining table — purchased 50 years ago for $40, according to receipts taped under each furniture item in her home. That evening, they reminisced on their favorite moments together.

“I’d never laughed so hard in my life,” Swanson said. “They told things that I know have never been told before!”

One not-so-controversial memory involved Iris laying out on the pavement as grandkids outlined her in chalk: a crime-scene of several great-grandmas, down the sidewalk and up the driveway.

“That was when I could still get up and get down,” Swanson said with a laugh. “If I get down now, I’m not going to get up!”

While aging has slowed her to some degree, Swanson hasn’t let that stop her from being an active citizen. We first met Swanson back in April, when she called our office wondering why we had stopped publishing another magazine in her community. She assured us she’d bring up the issue at the next city council meeting — she attends every single one. Iris has also faithfully participated in Good Government for Pleasant Hill (she brings the brownies), maintained membership of the American Business Women’s Association, supported the local veterans home, and attended school meetings at East High School, where she’s a proud 1949 graduate.

Her list of commitments goes on. Swanson attends not one, but two local churches. (She’s so bad during the week that she must go twice on Sundays, she teases.)

When organizing an interview, we had quite a time scheduling around various funeral luncheons that Iris coordinates through church. The day we finally met, Swanson was proud to have recruited a recently retired gentleman to help out.

“I decided that this does not have to all be women,” she said. “I called him and said, ‘I’ll give you something to think about.’ ”

Spunky and energetic as she is, Swanson’s children have long urged her to take responsibilities off her plate. But taking care of others is what she does best.

“It’s OK,” Swanson assured them. “I will die happy if I’m doing something that I like to do.”

If Swanson discovers people in need, they’ll soon be delivered a dish of her famous chicken and noodles, mashed potatoes, hot beef sandwiches or vegetable soup. She spends many dollars and hours mailing out cards of encouragement. Her living room is chock-full of crochet needles and yarn; each year, Iris sends more than 200 kitty rugs to the Animal Rescue League, and, together with a friend, makes about 500 scarves distributed among students in Des Moines.

“I think that’s why we’re here — we have to help each other,” Swanson said.

A global pandemic curbed many social engagements on Swanson’s busy calendar. Until three years ago, she made sure to keep up with her cousins at frequent family reunions. Iris still keeps up with friends from her 30-year career at Norwest Wells Fargo, where she was one of the first female officers in the operations area. Before COVID (or B.C., as Iris likes to call it), a group of women from church played cards every Sunday afternoon, without fail. They called themselves “The Bitty Bunch” and kept up the tradition for 15 years until a few members passed away.

Death becomes a frequent affair as one ages. Over the years, Swanson has beaten two types of cancer, lost her husband and many loved ones, and, most recently, survived COVID — twice. Through it all, she has remained cheerful as ever.

Her secret?

“You just need to get up every morning and put your feet on the floor and thank God for the night and for the day that you have received,” she said. “Everything else will fall into place.” ♦