There’s a sobering dynamic at work in the world lately –
everyone around me seems to be getting older.
I went to a family funeral this week and almost without exception, every
relative, friend, and extended family member was visibly grayer and more
grizzled than the last time I laid eyes on them. What’s happening?! I’ll be reaching that ominous Social Security
milestone in three short months, but surely I’M not visibly aging …. right? My trusted hairdresser keeps the silver from
showing, and these extra pounds I’ve packed on are always artfully camouflaged under
clothing. No one sees any of THAT …
RIGHT?? My contemporaries and my direct elders,
though? What’s up? How did the years pass so quickly? And how do I now find myself at a crossroads
of sorts, when I don’t feel any older on the inside than I did at twenty or
thirty?
I looked around the room during lunch and was humbled and
awed by what I saw. The Reese siblings,
who once were nine in number, are now down to four, and at one point the full
quartet was seated together at one table.
They're exact replicas of their younger selves, plus that mysterious
layer of whatever it is the decades add.
These are the heroes of my childhood, the people I watched and looked up
to and tried to emulate. Who gave them
permission to change and become vulnerable?
There were many in the room whose age corresponds to mine
--- the kids I grew up with, the ones who were forever going to be funny and
goofy and entertaining and lighthearted.
They’re still all of those things, but why did I have to look twice … or
three times … in order to discern who I was seeing? I saw the same sort of quizzical looks when
their gaze landed on me --- how very insulting!!
The babies of the family are now married or otherwise have
lives of their own, and I saw clearly the weight of responsibility where once
none existed.
At the far end of one table sat college kids --- atheletes
--- sharing moral support like the extended family they’ve become. Such beautiful perfectly-turned-out
people. As they sat there talking, surrounded
by their elders, did they have the slightest clue that they are at the pinnacle
of their physical perfection, their energies, their relative innocence about
life? It very likely will never be
better for them than right now. I wanted
to say to them, “Wring the last drop of vitality and happiness out of every
single day you’re on earth!” But that’s
the sort of thing older people pull on younger ones all the time, and it wouldn’t
have made a bit of difference anyway --- we all have to figure out life for
ourselves.
The uncle whose home-going we were celebrating seemed to
have learned the principle well. He
truly enjoyed his life and was a joy to those around him. His 87 years were filled with laughter and
silliness and much responsible living.
He loved people and knew how to make them laugh. He loved his family and gradually learned how
to tell them so in ways big and small.
He loved his wife of 62 years and was seemingly ready to be done with
living when she reluctantly left him behind.
He contributed to the life of his community, helped his neighbors, and was
a constant in his church. He served his
country in WWII and earned a Purple Heart that he never talked about, which is
so typical of the men of that war. His
wonderful smile and the twinkle in his eyes never dimmed. He was “good people.” The kind of people we truly miss when they go,
because they are so few.
All of us, when we’re young, are subjected to admonitions
from our elders to get the most out of life because it doesn’t
last very long. We don’t doubt their
words, really, we just don’t comprehend them.
Something inside says we’re hearing the truth, but at 20 or 30 or 40,
we can’t quite envision ourselves with gray hair, wrinkles, or nagging aches and
pains. And that’s a good thing. Who wants to think “old” all their life? Each stage is valuable in and of itself, to
be enjoyed and savored and appreciated.
And if we miss something? No
worries, really. Life doesn’t end at 50
or 60, and our interest in it doesn’t shut down just because everything isn’t
exactly as it was. For as long as we
have breath there will be wonders yet to see, to keep us engaged and moving
forward. One thing ends and another
takes its place.
When my Grandma Wagner was in her late 80s or early 90s she
related a dream to us. She had dreamed
that she was nineteen years old again and dancing in her Maidenform bra. Now, I seriously doubt Maidenform bras
existed yet when she was that age, but through the magic of dreams she got to
dance the night away in just such a garment.
The part of the story that lodged in my heart was when she said that
being nineteen again was just like being older --- she was the very same person
either way. That truth was never more
real to me than yesterday with my family.
There’s something very important here that I can’t afford to miss --- it's the sort of thing that
will determine how I live every day.
Arnold "Gabby" Hartnett 1924 - 2012
So glad I waited until the work day was over to read this at home, because I was free to let the tears spill over into the smile on my face. You have given voice to feelings I share deeply with you. Bless you for this tribute to family love and realization of mortality.
ReplyDeleteThank you, sister. You should be writing your OWN stories -- you have the words!
ReplyDeleteThe meaning of, "live each day to it's fullest' has never meant so much to me then now. Almost 4 years ago when grandma, as you said, 'so reluctantly left him behind' I nearly fell crippled under the weight of loss. I had never really felt that pain before, the greif of losing someone so beautiful and so loved. Eventually I started to remember that I will see her again. But then more and more I have lost loved ones since, 4 this year alone and its barely June! As I look at the pictures of my cousins and I, I can see I am not the same. I feel I am changed every day.Some good, some not so good... But the most important thing I have learned (and am trying to act on) is that I NEED to tell the people in my life that I love them. Before its too late. TO cherish every moment I get to have with them. And to TAKE MORE PICTURES! ;-) I really do love your blog Judy, keep writing! And I love you! <3
ReplyDeleteI love you, too, baby girl ...
ReplyDeleteHi
ReplyDeleteVery good story.