Friday, November 4, 2016

Look Closer, See Me?

“Honor older people, treat them with the respect due your parent." ~ 1 Timothy 5:1
In an overcrowded ward, Daryl sat alone.  The day broke only by the arrival of meals and meds, visitors to other beds, and busy practitioners.  Some are kindly, most are harried, none seem familiar.
Nurses sing his praises when they’ve reason to visit.  “Daryl’s no problem;" "a real gem;" and "one of a kind."  But inside he’s afraid that the love accumulated over the years is evaporating faster than a desert oasis.
Most days, the window served as his only connection to the outside world.  Without it this room felt like a tomb; as quiet as a crypt.  The phone doesn't ring; the door remains shut.  He stares through the foggy glass pane watching folks walk by, delivery trucks and the dull rumble of traffic.
Once a week his daughter stops by with the groceries.  He wished that she’d stay longer but he doesn’t have anything to say that would interest her and she doesn't want to burden him with her worries about money, the kids and a career stuck in neutral.
Occasionally he asks her to move some furniture or make some tea, anything to stop her from leaving so fast.  He can sense her frustration knowing he’s lived long enough to be a burden.
It isn't simply a lack of company, though that's part of it for sure, it's a black hole that grows more powerful with every passing day, swallowing whatever hope he had yet to spare.
When the old man died, many believed he had nothing left of any value.  Later, when the nurses were going through his meagre possessions, they found (excerpts from) this poem:
“I’m now an old man. . . and nature is cruel.
It’s jest to make old age . . . look like a fool.
The body, it crumbles . . . grace and vigor, depart.
There is now a stone. . . where I once had a heart.
But inside this old carcass a young man still dwells,
And now and again . . . my battered heart swells
I remember the joys . . . I remember the pain.
And I’m loving and living . . . life over again.”  ~ Anonymous
The accumulated wisdom of older people serves as a helpful guide to those younger.  Elders make us examine our assumptions and help us make more informed decisions.  But we have to be willing to listen.  Merely hearing the words they’re speaking are just vibrations in the air.
Listening requires that we open ourselves to the meaning of another’s words, that we sincerely enter into the experience those words are meant to convey.
Loving Lord, we lift up the elderly and infirm . . . not only those we know, but all who are facing this stage of their life.  Give them Your peace and grace as they fulfil Your purpose for their lives, in whatever situation they find themselves.  Amen