CHRIST IN WINTER:
Reflections on Life and Faith for the Years of Winter
I tried to keep my 80th
birthday a secret. I wasn’t ashamed of being 80. I just didn’t know how to deal
with it. What does it mean, to be that old?
I knew it could not be a
total secret, of course. There are people who know the date. But I wanted to
keep it low-key. That turned out to be impossible, because one of the persons
who knows that date is Helen. She decided, while ostensibly going along with my
idea of no party and gifts primarily of donations to The Interfaith Winter
Shelter, that I should receive greetings of some sort—card, letter, Facebook,
email—from everyone I have ever known, and some I have never even met. She also put my favorite yellow roses on the
altar at church, with a note in the bulletin about whose birthday those roses honored
and which birthday it was.
I was not chagrined that
my plans went awry. Most of my plans go awry or away. Instead, it was
wonderful, to hear from so many friends, to share so many good memories. Perhaps
the best gift of all is to have a wife who knows what you need better than you
know yourself. I was still befuddled by that number, 80, though. What does it
mean, to be that old?
After listening to the
sermon of our pastor, Jimmy Moore, yesterday, I began to realize why I resisted
dealing with my 80th birthday. I was unconsciously afraid not of
change, but of NOT changing.
Granted, old people have
good reasons to be reluctant about change. Most of the changes that happen to
us are not good. We slow down, forget stuff, can’t find stuff, break stuff,
drop stuff. After a stroke, my friend, Tom, can’t read the way he has always
enjoyed so much. Because of a creeping nerve disease, my friend, Jack, can’t
walk, and he always so much enjoyed getting around and doing. I don’t look
forward to decreasing limits. It takes me five minutes longer to walk a mile
than it took ten years ago. I don’t celebrate that.
I have seen friends take
these changes and deal with them, though. There is strength available, at any
age, to overcome changes for the worst. As we age, we have to live within
changing limits, but we don’t have to be limited by them.
I have always looked forward
to what came next, though. That’s why I’ve never particularly been afraid of
death.
I have always looked
forward to new places, new friends, new activities, new cars, new shoes. Our car
is new enough, and our miles few enough, that we’ll probably never have another
car. What’s the point of another plaid shirt when I don’t have room in our
condo for all those I have already? What if there is nothing new after 80?
I think unconsciously I
feared that 80 was some kind of turning point when there was nothing new to
look forward to. But in church Sunday morning, Rev. Jimmy Moore claimed that is
not true. He said that change is inevitable, and since it is, why not change
for the better… or something like that.
Of course, he’s only 61,
so what does he know? Wait ‘til you’re 80, Jimmy. Then you’ll…. well, you’ll be
befuddled.
JRMcF
I tweet as yooper1721.
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