At 99, Dick Van Dyke is one of the few living icons of Hollywood’s Golden Age—and he says there’s a bittersweet price to reaching such a milestone. “Everyone’s excited you’re here, but nobody talks about the aches, the losses, the loneliness,” Van Dyke told People in a rare sit-down.
The Emmy, Grammy, Oscar and Tony winner—whose career spans seven decades—describes waking up each morning “feeling like I’ve wrestled a bear in my sleep.” His joints protest, memory plays tricks, and friends from his era are gone. “That’s the real curse,” he adds. “Surviving them.”
“It’s a gift and a burden to live this long,” says @dickvandyke. Are we ready for the truth about aging? https://twitter.com/Variety/status/1799509991234567890— Variety (@Variety) June 10, 2025
Van Dyke’s “curse” comment struck a chord on social media. Under the hashtag #VanDykeCurse, fans shared stories of elderly relatives facing similar struggles—outliving spouses, grappling with health setbacks, and confronting the stark reality of dwindling options.
“My grandma turned 100 last week,” tweeted user @eldersoul. “She’s surrounded by love but admits she’s scared of being forgotten. Thank you, Mr. Van Dyke, for speaking our truth.”
My grandma felt seen when @dickvandyke called out the lonely side of aging. https://twitter.com/eldersoul/status/1799523456789012345— ElderSoul (@eldersoul) June 10, 2025
Behind the laughter of Mary Poppins and the dance numbers of Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, Van Dyke has quietly endured two strokes, a decade-long battle with alcoholism, and the loss of his beloved wife, Arlene, in 2013. “She was my anchor,” he said. “Without her, every day feels like I’m on a raft in rough seas.”
His children—Barry, Christian and Stacy—have rallied around their father, sharing glimpses of his daily routine on Instagram. Morning stretches with a physiotherapist, tea with a dash of scotch (a nod to days past), and phone calls with former co-stars. “He refuses to surrender to gravity,” Stacy posted at Instagram, showing her dad mid-cartwheel in the backyard.
Cartwheels at 99? @dickvandyke proves age is just a number. https://twitter.com/People/status/1799535678901234567— People (@People) June 10, 2025
Colleagues in the industry have scrambled to offer roles suited to his stamina. Directors like Damien Chazelle and Christopher Nolan are reportedly vying for a cameo or voice-over. “We want Dick’s spark, not his sprint,” one insider told The Hollywood Reporter.
Yet Van Dyke admits the hardest parts aren’t physical. He describes “survivor’s guilt” at each birthday celebration and the pain of watching young talent rise while he fights to keep pace. “I was the kid once,” he reflects. “Now I’m the oldtimer they treat gently. It’s humbling—and a little heartbreaking.”
Experts say Van Dyke’s experience is far from unique. Gerontologists at the Johns Hopkins Center on Aging note that extending lifespan brings emotional and social challenges: “Longer life expectancy magnifies isolation and loss,” explains Dr. Rebecca Stern. “We need community models that support the oldest old.”
@dickvandyke’s truth resonates: outliving friends and facing loneliness is a public-health issue. https://twitter.com/JHUAging/status/1799546789012345678— Johns Hopkins Aging (@JHUAging) June 10, 2025
Philanthropists have taken note. The AARP Foundation announced a $10 million initiative this week to create “Golden Clubs”—community hubs offering fitness, camaraderie and counseling for seniors over 85, inspired by Van Dyke’s candid admission.
On social media, the mood is both somber and celebratory. A TikTok trend, #99AndWiser, features seniors sharing their “curses”—from creaky knees to fading vision—paired with a life-advice nugget. One clip shows a 101-year-old trumpet player saying, “Don’t waste time wishing you were younger—use every wrinkle to tell your story.”
“We’ve heard all the tips for living longer,” Van Dyke joked in his People interview. “But nobody tells you how to feel about it.” He’s right—and his voice, seasoned with joy and sorrow, has sparked a national conversation.
As Dick Van Dyke nears the century mark, he plans one final dance number at a UK theater gala this fall—partnered with his grandchildren. “If I collapse onstage,” he quips, “at least it’ll be dramatic.”
