Beginning today, seventysomething will feature Let’s Talk every other Wednesday alternating with an essay on memory, aging in amazement, and the inner life.
A hospice patient I used to visit told me how he was fortunate growing up in the Depression because he lived on a farm and there was always food. He said some of his less fortunate classmates would beg for his apple cores at lunch time.
When making an excuse why I hadn’t visited my aunt in the nursing home my dad looked me squarely in the eye and said three words “Make the time”. It has always stuck with me when confronting myself with excuses for not doing something I very well know I could. Thanks for asking thst question.
The step over the threshold into newer and more light-filled territory always seems to be accompanied by resistance. This seems to make it more worthwhile in the end, don't you think?
Almost 20 years ago, Beverly was in her late 70's when I was approaching 50 years of age. My mother had always said, "After 60 it's patch, patch, patch" and I was already carrying her attitudes toward aging in my head. I bumped into Beverly, asked how she was and learned she hadn't been well. So I asked about it and she said, not wanting to share details, "You know aging is...." As she paused, I naturally thought she would echo my mother's beliefs and thought "patch, patch, patch" as I finished her sentence in my head. But this beautiful elder finished her sentence differently. She said "Aging is... a privilege!" I never forgot that and have tried to keep her wisdom with me as go forward with the physical challenges of aging. Even when I hurt, it's still a privilege! Here's to Beverly!
This echoes a quote I always remember..although I can't recall the attribution. "Pain is the privilege of the living." I realize this idea has its limits....but I find it illuminating.
A hospice patient I used to visit told me how he was fortunate growing up in the Depression because he lived on a farm and there was always food. He said some of his less fortunate classmates would beg for his apple cores at lunch time.
When making an excuse why I hadn’t visited my aunt in the nursing home my dad looked me squarely in the eye and said three words “Make the time”. It has always stuck with me when confronting myself with excuses for not doing something I very well know I could. Thanks for asking thst question.
The step over the threshold into newer and more light-filled territory always seems to be accompanied by resistance. This seems to make it more worthwhile in the end, don't you think?
Almost 20 years ago, Beverly was in her late 70's when I was approaching 50 years of age. My mother had always said, "After 60 it's patch, patch, patch" and I was already carrying her attitudes toward aging in my head. I bumped into Beverly, asked how she was and learned she hadn't been well. So I asked about it and she said, not wanting to share details, "You know aging is...." As she paused, I naturally thought she would echo my mother's beliefs and thought "patch, patch, patch" as I finished her sentence in my head. But this beautiful elder finished her sentence differently. She said "Aging is... a privilege!" I never forgot that and have tried to keep her wisdom with me as go forward with the physical challenges of aging. Even when I hurt, it's still a privilege! Here's to Beverly!
This echoes a quote I always remember..although I can't recall the attribution. "Pain is the privilege of the living." I realize this idea has its limits....but I find it illuminating.