Category Archives: Aging

Taking the Lead

Posted on by

Last week I enjoyed writing about my mom, thankful for the upright heritage she left behind. Judging by worldly standards, Mom died an old lady of 92 who never worked outside her home or accomplished anything of note. Strangers might have said, “Hers was a wasted life.”

 Fun-loving MomBut those of us who knew her, know otherwise. Before Mom died, we used to joke she’d have a big funeral, and we were right. The crowds came in droves, filling the large room where her body lay, spilling out into the halls and out the front door. The funeral director came running just before the service began with alarm on his face. “Why didn’t you tell me!” he said.

What he meant was, “Why didn’t you tell me this woman was popular? We don’t usually see this for old ladies like her!”

As we greeted guests, Mary and I noticed how most were from the generations behind Mom, people our age and younger. These were the “children” she’d loved and influenced throughout her life, loving all of them as her own. Rather than wasting her life, she’d used it for lofty purposes, leaving footprints that led them all to Jesus.

Here’s an important question for each of us still marching along on this side of our funerals: “Where will my footprints lead?”

FootprintsSteve Green’s song “Find Us Faithful” says,

“As those who’ve gone before us,
Let us leave to those behind us
 The heritage of faithfulness passed on through godly lives.”

God gives us a simple but effective way to leave footprints others will find it worthwhile to follow: just track the steps of Jesus.

IMom and Linnin Mom’s last year of life, she continually had her nose in a Bible. One day I asked if she’d looked at the biography of Julia Child I’d just given her, or her new book about hymn authors. She said, “Honey, I don’t have any time for those. I’m studying for my finals.”

Despite not owning a trophy case or being written up in periodicals, Mom finished well.

“After all our hopes and dreams have come and gone
And our children sift through all we’ve left behind,
 May the clues that they discover and the memories they uncover
 Become the light that leads them to the road we each must find.” (Steve Green)

“God called you to do good, even if it means suffering, just as Christ suffered for you. He is your example, and you must follow in his steps.” (1 Peter 2:21)

The Upshot of Shots

Posted on by

New babyWhen newborns come into the world, they arrive with a clean slate which usually includes freedom from disease. We parents immediately jump in to keep it that way by yo-yo-ing back and forth to the pediatrician until our children virtually hate their doctor. That’s because every appointment includes a vaccination.

All 7 of our kids had the same pediatrician, a wise, gentle man we grew to love as a personal friend. The kids would ask, “Am I having a shot today?”

And he’d say, “No. Just a vaccination.”

Splitting medical hairs didn’t do much to cheer them, but by kindergarten, 99% of all needle-visits were over. The upshot of all their shots was freedom from the painful diseases former generations had to experience.

VaccinationsAs for me, I went decades without any shots, but the upcoming illnesses of old age are just ahead, and new vaccines can prevent some of them. One malady I’d like to avoid is shingles, a painful skin rash that can hang on for months.

Even though doctors are promoting the vaccine for folks over 60, it’s not 100% effective. But a vaccinated person who does get shingles won’t suffer the same intensity of pain.

Mom had shingles the year before she died, and nothing could soothe the fiery pain on her neck and scalp. Shingles can even travel into ears and eyes, causing permanent damage. So I decided to roll up my sleeve and take my poke.

Too bad there’s not an inoculation for sorrow and heartache. We could all bop through life wearing big grins, and worries would be a thing of the past. No more middle-of-the-night anxieties or games of what-if. Happy thoughts would dominate, and contentment would be much easier to find.

The only problem would be our numbness. Being protected from the negatives would mean being deadened to the positives, too. If we couldn’t feel sadness, how could we feel happiness? Each human emotion needs its counterbalance.

On the day Nate died, all of us suffered raw pain. But would we rather not have had him at all? No, because that would have eliminated thousands of joy-filled days.

Thinking of this dilemma in a biblical way, if we were able to opt out of sorrow, we’d miss God’s special promises to the brokenhearted. If we didn’t experience affliction, we’d miss his deliverance. If we didn’t suffer guilt over sin, we’d never know the relief of forgiveness.

Even Jesus wasn’t inoculated against sorrow. If he hadn’t willingly been crushed for us, we wouldn’t now have access to spiritual healing.

So, if a vaccination against heartache did exist, we probably shouldn’t get in line for it. Just think of the counter-balancing blessings we’d have to miss.

Jesus said, “You may have peace in me. Here on earth you will have many trials and sorrows. But take heart, because I have overcome the world.” (John 16:33)

Risky Business

Posted on by

MapWhen Mom was in her mid-80’s, she wanted to drive from Chicago around the south end of Lake Michigan to our summer home, staying as close to the water as possible. The rest of us doubted the efficacy of her idea, an old lady driving through dangerous neighborhoods for no important reason, but we knew Mom.

She was going to do it.

She asked if any of us wanted to accompany her, and although many of us said, “Sure!” there were always reasons why it wasn’t a good day. Then Mom got sick of waiting. She left her home in Wilmette, 25 miles north of Chicago, and threaded her way south along Sheridan Road, Lake Shore Drive and route 94, enjoying a lake view all the way.

When she got to Gary and Hammond, she had trouble staying close to the shoreline because of the steel mills but said she never lost sight of the water (questionable). She finished her drive to the Michigan cottage on routes 20 and 12, reaching her goal.

Naturally we lectured her after the fact, but half of her joy was in showing up the rest of us. When I asked if she’d been nervous anywhere along the way she said, “Be friendly to people, and they’ll be friendly to you.” Who knows what she encountered.

Dad was accurate when he said, “Your Ma is a risk-taker.” When it involved our children, however, we cringed, like the time she let our preschoolers drive her car by having them crawl under her feet and push the break and gas pedals with their hands. Or the time she sent two 2-year-olds to the beach unaccompanied. We found them playing in the lake.

Another time she took our 4 and 5 year old girls to Chicago’s Adler Planetarium. Once inside the building, she remembered their snack bags in her car.

“Grandma needs a rest, “she said, plunking down on a planetarium bench. “Here’s the car keys. Do you remember where we parked?” The two little girls headed down the wide steps and into a sea of cars parked in downtown Chicago in search of snack bags. I can’t even list the multiple risks she took in doing this, though as always, it worked out fine.

Mom leading the paradeRecently some friends and I talked about risk-taking in relation to aging. As the years pile up, most of us get cautious, eliminating risk wherever possible, but then without our realizing it, the world begins to shrink, along with many positives.

We agreed it’s a good idea to force ourselves to take at least minimal risks. We should keep driving in busy cities, going out after dark, trying new foods, meeting new people, traveling to faraway places. But how?

By factoring in God, trusting in his care. But will he come through if we’re risking too much? He wants us to walk in wisdom, which is usually somewhere between wild risk and none at all.

Amazingly, Mom’s risk-taking never got her in trouble. Maybe God assigned extra angels to “keep her in all her ways.” Although her risk management was sometimes foolish, taking no risks at all can be foolish, too.

“Moderation is better than muscle.” (Proverbs 16:32)