The evangelist, Billy Graham, stated that he learned how to live and die, but no one ever taught him how to grow old. It is likely that we are, in general, unprepared for aging. We follow some of the musings on age that appear in the Scriptures, especially in the Psalms, but even those statements range between what, in actuality, affirm difficulties, and what are musings implying gracious benediction. Most remarks about age seem freighted with both appreciation for long life, and a kind of disappointment about returning to dependence and loneliness related to emotions pertaining to children, feeling embarrassed in weakness, in an out-of-the-loop feeling of isolated life. One can feel the mixtures of emotions when an old person is called upon to make some statement in public. It was obvious irritation in the aging poet, Robert Frost, when he tried to read a poem at the inauguration of President John Kennedy. Grow old with me, the best is yet to be . . . but Robert Frost may not have believed it as he fought the breeze and Sun on that inauguration day. Maurice Chevalier sang a song in a film that was popular extolling old age, but later in an interview said he did not agree with his words so well voiced for the film. My wife ultimately found that, with increasing physical infirmities, it was easier to die than to live. My sister who thought my wife so brave at the time of death, was later quite distressed to remain in a semi-vegetative state before she died. My mother, living to 96 years of age, asked me in good spirit, why did God permit her to live when she would gladly walk through the door of death? At 90+ years of age I remain active, doing things l have always done including driving, providing privately for my daily needs, and following extensive ablutions related to old illnesses and aging – partly monitored by a physician. There may appear a few more years, but I feel at the ready.
History is touched with the reporting of death, of last words, and closing events. Socrates did not appear to be greatly offended at having to drink the hemlock. He was feeling old at seventy, and he did not have the happiest marriage. Ralph Waldo Emerson, delivering his last lecture, stumbled along. Embarrassment for him fell upon the audience. A few persons at a time arose and silently, even reverently, walked out of the auditorium. He seemed not to notice. When all had left, a close friend walked up to him at the table, took him by the arm, and together they walked out of the hall, never to return. Emerson knew it was the end. Such stories, sensitive and poignant, are numerous, wafting through the centuries. The stories we prefer are usually marked with a faith of restful peace. Some are touched with fear, with uncertainty. A best seller was recently on the market to chronicle the final days and conversations of a dying man.
My experience in growing old has been pleasant. It has been made easier by taking responsibility for self knowing I may need help at the end. I am blessed by the involvement of my family, beloved persons who may not like to think about final issues. To take the time to slow down, think about God and hope, live memories again, and find writing, constancy of prayer and beauty – all are good for benediction. With God’s grace, loving family and friends, gracious memories, I am blest. There is no doubt in my mind that the secret to growing old and enjoying life with limitations that humble us, is found in three beneficial factors. One is the family (if truly loving of its members). Here are the persons from whom the elders find fulfillment. The second is to have a modicum of decent health so one can care for personal needs in dignity. The last, of course, is a confident faith that makes departure a blessing to better things. The decay of a life, even well lived, helps us to surrender the pleasure of God’s creation. *Mark W. Lee, Sr. — 2016, 2020