Several months ago I wrote about an acquaintance who, at 62, reached a point of such life desperation that he shot himself. I won't ever truly know his story, as I have only heard some of the reasons he might have done it. It sounds as if it had a financial basis, and that he didn't seem to have thought of any other options.
Yesterday I went to another funeral, this time a completely different kind of occasion, as we were celebrating the rich, full life of my Uncle Johnny, my mother's oldest brother, who passed away at the vital age of 90 because his body just couldn't function anymore. This was a man who clearly saw other options in life besides giving up.
My mother and I visited his wife before the service; we had driven early in the morning to Gilmer, a town a couple of hours east of Dallas. She handed us a stack of pictures that I had never seen--photos of Mom and her five brothers as children, images of her and my father newly married, and others of me and my sisters visiting my grandparents' farm with our mother. All the shots were in black and white, but life seemed to breathe from them.
There was a picture of my mom and four of her brothers and I asked where Johnny was--she said he had left home by then, that is what farm boys did back then. He and his cousin had graduated high school at 15 or 16 and gone off to Texarkana to be able to drink, smoke and play cards--act out their dreams and work just enough to support their freedom. When World War II started, those same boys enlisted and did their duty. Fortunately Johnny was one who came back from the war.
He married a woman who he was crazy about--but the craziness turned out to be hers. I can remember visiting them, or their being around in family gatherings, and watching Aunt Corinne slowly change into someone not truly with us. Back then, mental problems were probably as common as now, but no one talked about them, and I doubt there was much help for them--especially as they were good Baptists and they just lived out their problems.
Johnny took care of Corinne for all those years. They never had children, as she was his child, but I never heard him complain about her or his life. I know he had colon cancer 18 years ago and had lived with a colostomy bag since. I never heard him say a word about that either. She died about 6 years ago, and Johnny was with her until the end.
What I did hear was how funny he was, and how, whenever we saw him he'd say things like, I'm a good lookin' guy--it's because I'm an Erwin--I just can't help it! And it's true. All the Erwins (including my mother--truly beautiful at 84) are good looking. And they have strong constitutions and strong characters. These are the salt of the earth people who work, take care of business take care of their families. Actually, a couple of the brothers didn't do so well. Uncle Jack got killed in a fight when I was a child. My mother was crushed by that, but the family just went on. And my Uncle Tom left his first wife and didn't do such a good job taking care of their children, but they all grew up anyway and now he and his second wife are missionaries in Mexico and build houses in a village with a lot of orphans. That redemption thing seems to be going on there.
And Johnny created a whole new life for himself a few years ago by getting involved with a delightful woman, Monte, who was a widow and a pillar of the community in Gilmer. They dated a while then got married--didn't want people to talk if they stayed at each others' houses. He sold his house in Longview and moved back to Gilmer to live with her. He was around 86 and she was 81 or so. And they had fun! They traveled all over the place, made all the family gatherings and included all of us in their enjoyment of life. They had a great love affair, obvious to all--not mushy and gooey or embarrassing to watch--but one of mutual respect and true appreciation of each other and the contributions they brought to the relationship.
Yesterday we looked at pictures of their traveling adventures and I started thinking about how different it could have been for both of them. They could have given up long ago, they could have been sufferers for their losses. But they made different kinds of choices and lived life fully. Monte is still young and vibrant, and I am certain she will continue to live well. She is so grateful to have had those few years with him and all the fun they had together.
Thank you Uncle Johnny for reminding me how well life can be lived. And thank you God for giving me a family that I can love, admire and appreciate--and be so proud to be a part of.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
A Prescription for Life?
I've been traveling a bit, spending time with friends in various places. Traveling gives me a chance to catch up on my reading, break my TV habit for a bit, think about what I love to do.
I'm wondering how many people are actually doing what they would love to do....
On the radio this morning, I heard the question posed this way: how can someone who loves to do mechanical things, work with his hands, find a way to do what he loves and still find enough income to support his family? That is paraphrased, but you get the idea. One response was that mechanics are in greater demand right now because people aren't buying new cars and gadgets, they are fixing up the ones they have and holding on to them. So for some, the possibility of combining what they love with earning money is actually more real today than in the past.
I also watch the stories on TV about the fall and possible rise of General Motors, the pundits who are preaching doom and gloom about the economy. Many are saying that the changes being made by GM today would have made sense a few years ago, but management wasn't willing to make them.
Perhaps this strange, unfamiliar, seemingly very difficult economic downturn is our "have to" in the process of human evolution. I wrote earlier in the year that I saw it as the "equilibration of hubris." The over-emphasis on money, things, status, image--those are symptoms of hubris. The arrogance of human nature expressed in $5000 must-have handbags...... Perhaps this is our chance to "have to" become different kinds of human beings.
Today, more people are saving money than have in at least 20 years. Apparently they have noticed that they are the only ones who are truly responsible for their futures, so now they're putting money aside to create more security. The boomer generation has lost its dream of retirement by the golf course.
Is that a bad thing? Is it imperative that over 60 means that work becomes irrelevant?
I watched my father-in-law retire from a business he didn't love, spend 3 or 4 years building a house then run out of things to do except look outside at his lakefront property, fish, and do a bit of yardwork. He died within a year of the completion of his house. He was 72. In 1983 he seemed old. Today, as I am approaching my 62nd birthday, 72 doesn't even begin to sound old.
What if he had found something to do that he really enjoyed? His wife, my mother-in-law, died a year later. She was only 68. Once he was gone, the lymphoma she had been fighting for a few years took hold and did its damage. Aside from her grandchildren, she didn't have much to look forward to.
My father died in September 2006 and I watched my mother go through the slow process of adjusting to life without him. She also went through a traumatic illness from fall 2007 to spring 2008, but emerged alive and well from it. Now that she is living in a retirement community, she is engaged in all sorts of activities that suit her: decorating for parties, playing bridge, going to meetings about life in the community and solving issues with residents. She found something to do--and a reason to be glad she is still alive. As she is almost 85, it would be easy to give up and just sit there. By not doing so, she is still fun to be around. I actually look forward to our little jaunts to the doctor or to run little errands. She has taken a new direction and finds it interesting and stimulating.
So maybe having a fulfilling life, loving what we do is more about loving ourselves, loving being alive, and finding ways to express that. So if we don't have the promise of the future we were sort of taking for granted, if we don't have a guarantee that the world will provide for us, perhaps this is our chance to be glad we are alive. To go back to basics and learn to take care of ourselves, take care of other people, do the little things that make a difference. I see my mom doing that, and the more she does it, the more cheerful she is.
Looks like it is true that one way to live well longer is to live well with others and open our hearts, engage in community and feel purposeful. Sounds like a pretty good prescription.
I'm wondering how many people are actually doing what they would love to do....
On the radio this morning, I heard the question posed this way: how can someone who loves to do mechanical things, work with his hands, find a way to do what he loves and still find enough income to support his family? That is paraphrased, but you get the idea. One response was that mechanics are in greater demand right now because people aren't buying new cars and gadgets, they are fixing up the ones they have and holding on to them. So for some, the possibility of combining what they love with earning money is actually more real today than in the past.
I also watch the stories on TV about the fall and possible rise of General Motors, the pundits who are preaching doom and gloom about the economy. Many are saying that the changes being made by GM today would have made sense a few years ago, but management wasn't willing to make them.
Perhaps this strange, unfamiliar, seemingly very difficult economic downturn is our "have to" in the process of human evolution. I wrote earlier in the year that I saw it as the "equilibration of hubris." The over-emphasis on money, things, status, image--those are symptoms of hubris. The arrogance of human nature expressed in $5000 must-have handbags...... Perhaps this is our chance to "have to" become different kinds of human beings.
Today, more people are saving money than have in at least 20 years. Apparently they have noticed that they are the only ones who are truly responsible for their futures, so now they're putting money aside to create more security. The boomer generation has lost its dream of retirement by the golf course.
Is that a bad thing? Is it imperative that over 60 means that work becomes irrelevant?
I watched my father-in-law retire from a business he didn't love, spend 3 or 4 years building a house then run out of things to do except look outside at his lakefront property, fish, and do a bit of yardwork. He died within a year of the completion of his house. He was 72. In 1983 he seemed old. Today, as I am approaching my 62nd birthday, 72 doesn't even begin to sound old.
What if he had found something to do that he really enjoyed? His wife, my mother-in-law, died a year later. She was only 68. Once he was gone, the lymphoma she had been fighting for a few years took hold and did its damage. Aside from her grandchildren, she didn't have much to look forward to.
My father died in September 2006 and I watched my mother go through the slow process of adjusting to life without him. She also went through a traumatic illness from fall 2007 to spring 2008, but emerged alive and well from it. Now that she is living in a retirement community, she is engaged in all sorts of activities that suit her: decorating for parties, playing bridge, going to meetings about life in the community and solving issues with residents. She found something to do--and a reason to be glad she is still alive. As she is almost 85, it would be easy to give up and just sit there. By not doing so, she is still fun to be around. I actually look forward to our little jaunts to the doctor or to run little errands. She has taken a new direction and finds it interesting and stimulating.
So maybe having a fulfilling life, loving what we do is more about loving ourselves, loving being alive, and finding ways to express that. So if we don't have the promise of the future we were sort of taking for granted, if we don't have a guarantee that the world will provide for us, perhaps this is our chance to be glad we are alive. To go back to basics and learn to take care of ourselves, take care of other people, do the little things that make a difference. I see my mom doing that, and the more she does it, the more cheerful she is.
Looks like it is true that one way to live well longer is to live well with others and open our hearts, engage in community and feel purposeful. Sounds like a pretty good prescription.
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