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| Respect for the Aged Day ask we “upload pics to honor the elderly people in your life.” My father Robert, 91, at home in Buffalo Grove. |
When I was a little boy, an elderly man from our neighborhood would go from house to house with a wheelbarrow, selling vegetables from his garden. I don’t remember his name or what he looked like.
But I remember my father asking him a question: “Who was the first president you ever voted for?” His answer: “Teddy Roosevelt, 1904.”
I bring that up because Monday, Sept. 18 is Respect for the Aged Day. Didn’t know that? No shame there. I wouldn’t know either, except that Chicago Public Media’s manager of diversity, equity and inclusion sent an email encouraging us to celebrate the day.
It began in Japan in 1966 — that word “aged” is the giveaway. Not a word many Americans would use to describe themselves or anybody else. Nor is “old.”
I remember being at the birthday party for Harry Heftman, who owned the Chicago hot dog stand at Randolph and Franklin. He was looking a bit rhumy about the eyes, and I thought of beginning a column, “Harry Heftman is looking old ...” and asked his daughter if she thought he would mind. “Oh no, you can’t,” she said, aghast, “Harry would hate that.” Heftman was 103 years old.
If you can’t be old at 103, when can you be old? And the honest answer is: never. Not in our culture. Disdain for the aged is the last acceptable bias. Our culture sticks old people in ghettos, so automatically we never even pause to question the practice.
At 63, age-wise I have a foot on the boat and a foot on the pier. Especially since my parents are both alive, at 91 and 87. Having moved them from Boulder to Buffalo Grove last year and been mother-henning their increasingly complicated care ever since, I have “respect” down cold, but can’t pen a general encomium to being old without recognizing that much of age is simply horrible — a sheering away of every hope and pleasure you ever had, while undergoing expensive tortures straight from Dante’s hell.
“The cold friction of expiring sense,” as T.S. Eliot writes. “Without enchantment, offering no promise/But bitter tastelessness of shadow fruit/As body and soul begin to fall asunder.”
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Yes, aging isn’t easy. But they tell me that it beats the alternative.
ReplyDeleteConsidering the physical and mental woes that I have seen in friends and others as they age, I think that the alternative of death is often a mercy. Our medical system extends life without extending health.
DeleteBeautiful!
ReplyDeleteWas the hot dog stand at Randolph and Franklin called Zayde's?
ReplyDeleteSo insightful! As an old person (79) myself, I’m always pleased when a younger person makes eye contact and greets me on the street, or makes a little conversation while standing in line. I feel seen. Thanks for encouraging respect for everyone.
ReplyDeleteI am going to be 80 next month. Not "old" by current standards, but I wonder how that happened seemingly so fast. In my head, I am who I always was. However life has come full circle--vulnerable child to vulnerable adult. I don't see so well, have increasing balance problems, arthritis everywhere and am nervous about driving at night. Losing friends often now. Living on my own, not in a ghetto because I don't want to be around other "old" people who show me the future every day.
ReplyDeleteAnd yet, I am grateful to get up every morning, see the sunset, love the changing seasons, have long lunches with friends, and travel seasons, sand spend money saved for retirement!
I worry that the stories will be lost because we don't asked older people to tell them. All of us have funny family stories, stories of interesting adventures, lessons learned the hard way, wisdom that came at a cost. We should not only respect the elderly. We should treasure what they have to tell those younger than us. Ask them to tell the stories. Keep the stories alive.
When I got deeper into my family's genealogy, finding the lost relatives, places of birth, deaths and interesting connections was engrossing, but as that process slowed I realized that I had missed so much. The stories. When my father was falling deeper into dementia I retold the stories he had related through the years. Even though he didn't remember much, I would sometimes see a brief smile spark a little something. I tell my nieces all that I can remember of our extended families, trying to keep some of that alive. Had I Neils skills, I would set them all down. The first time I saw a Giant Sequoia I wondered what had happened in the 2500 plus years since it was a sapling. Alexander and Socrates were not yet born and this tree had been there since and would be long after I departed. I felt the wonder of creation and personally small at the same time. Even that huge tree, one of the tallest living things ever, was itself just a small piece. So I tell that story too.
DeleteLove this piece. Being old myself (79), my brother in law and I decided that while 79 sounds old, next year, when we hit 80, we will REALLY be old. I disagree about retirement communities. We have one son and wanted to be sure we would not be a burden for him or any other relatives. We did lots of research and decided on a non profit rather than a for profit and chose one near our families. We are very happy with our choice. The residents are delightful, friendly and interesting backgrounds. The staff is fabulous, helpful and quick to respond. An activity you can imagine is available. Being near our extended family and knowing they can live their busy lives without worrying about us is a blessing and a relief.
ReplyDeleteThanks for alerting me to the existence of "Respect for the Aged Day." Now I want to know how those of us who are "aged" should behave today. Should we go around picketing, demanding "respect"?
ReplyDeleteLife is about figuring out what you love - and then systematically having those things taken away from you. The challenge is finding a way to count each day as a blessing in spite of this maddening design flaw in the Master Plan. So far, so good.
ReplyDeleteLovely column.
Memento mori
ReplyDeleteThe library in my home town in Montana provides a wonderful means of gathering up those memories. Small booths in which family members can sit and interview their elders about their lives. It all goes on video. A friend sent me her interview with her son. It’s divided up into chapters with headings. Just wonderful. Don’t know if there’s anything like that around here.
ReplyDeleteThank you Neil ! It is all about respect!!! Am 77, still working 32 hours/ week with colleagues half my age, volunteering, living life as I choose and enjoying every minute!
ReplyDeleteAs a man your age (63) also, I too am aware of the thundering hooves approaching. I try not to think about it but my body tends to remind me a couple of times a day. I suppose I have one foot on the pier and one in the boat as well but I don’t have the comfort of family longevity on which to rely - Mom passed at 74 (cancer) and Dad had a heart attack 5 days short of 70. But I forage on, try to take reasonably good care of myself and hope I’m the family exception. As long as it’s a good quality of life I’m interested in participating. Neil, your father could pass for 75, good for him. No wonder you appear to have such seemingly boundless energy! Rock on, dude.
ReplyDeleteI'm only a year older than you, NS, but already have cataract surge coming up and new aches and pains or pills needed each day. One starts feeling age at about 62, I think.
ReplyDeleteAt 63, Mr. S, maybe you still have a good deal of time left. Or perhaps not. You could get hit by a meteor tomorrow. As for me, maybe I do...maybe I don't. The key word here is "maybe."' And I'm thirteen years older than you are,
ReplyDeleteMy maternal grandfather died at 47, long before I was born, but my grandmother did make it to 87, and my mother made it to 92. On the other hoof, even though my father and one of his brothers surpassed eighty, the majority of his six brothers didn't survive past their 70s. And their father only lived to be 67. How do you do a longevity equation with all those numbers? I used to think I'd hit 85, or even 90, with little or no trouble. At 76, I don't think that way anymore.
And even if I do reach those milestones,, it won't be with "little or no trouble"...I already spend way too much time seeing doctors for my various ailments and complaints. Golden years, my ass. (SG)