That’s My Life in There….

Recently I had a conversation with an elderly person who said, “That’s my life in there…”

While our lives are certainly more than what we interact with in the material realm, there is a huge truth I think we should pause and listen to, in these words…

I imagine these thoughts are not uncommon as people continue to age.

It was the idea and somewhat depressing yet realistic thought that one day after one’s death others will come into their home and disperse-and-dispose of the tangible remnants of one’s life.

What we leave behind is the story of our lives in many ways, and how sad for someone to believe that no one will be there to listen or to care and for the aging person to endure private imaginations of others coming in after their death and carelessly handling that which they consider sacred.

I felt sad to listen to this worry from my friend, and I admit I have had the same thoughts quite often.

My elderly friend said, “When I look at (this) I see….but when (they) will look at it they might only see (some undesireable object)….”

The idea is that everyone has a story, and everyone’s life story matters, and that the unique and significant memories that make up who we are can sometimes be tied to seemingly worthless objects.

I wonder if sometimes devaluation of one’s simple earthly treasures is actually a devaluation of the person.

Not always, but maybe, sometimes.

These photos, objects, furniture…so much…serve as a tangible navigational trail that helps the person on their life’s journey.

These trail markings tell us who we are, to some degree, and where we have been, where we currently are, and where we want to go.

And they are so specific to one’s own life story.

How sad for an aged, alone person to wonder what will become of their husband’s and son’s service flags, or long-ago photos…or little objects bought on some trip. Reminders of love and good times, and also, other times.

It prompted me to write this.

If you know an elderly person – or even a younger friend – I think it would be good when you visit in their home to notice what they set around them and maybe ask them to tell the story of something.

Ask if you might look through some photo albums with them.

I am being super idealistic here…but throwing out ideas never hurts. Perhaps someone reading this will think of someone in their sphere and consider how some simple act like this might mean so much to someone elderly, shut-in and alone. Maybe it will remind someone to make a spontaneous house call to someone. Just today I was in another conversation with an older cousin, his wife and my son, and he was saying how in the older, bygone years that people would just show up for a visit in your home, unannounced.

We talked about how that wouldn’t fly these days.

Churches often send visitors to the elderly…and there is Meals on Wheels…I have heard first-hand how much a meaningful conversation with a meal-deliverer means when an elderly person lives alone and many days doesn’t hear another human voice except from their TV.

Phone calls or other short messages to elderly that have devices is also good. Sending a picture text may entertain their thoughts enough to find some small pleasure – whereas we younger people might get annoyed at too many pictures coming on our smart phones.

This conversation with this elderly friend reminded me of when my Aunt Virginia was aging and how she handled it. She was a very thoughtful and very organized person – a keeper of family photos, stories, genealogy and so much more…a listener and a teller of memories.

She began gifting back items to family members as they would visit – children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, me, and others I am sure – slowly were gifted back items gifted to her and my uncle over the years.

Probably about ten years before her death in her mid-eighties, she gave me back a little plaque I gave her in 1982. It was my first year of college and I had a truly life-changing encounter with God but in retrospect, what I named it, how I talked about it and how I pushed it at that time showed the easy tendency toward being a religious zealot of sorts especially when we are so young…

At the tender age of eighteen I recall trying to have theological conversations over whether hell was a literal place and the nature of the devil…with my aunt and uncle…who were likely around the age I now am – people who had years and years of faithful living for Jesus behind them – and I look back and think that any metaphorical paw-batting by them, in that discourse, was so very good.

It doesn’t matter what any of us thought, think, believe, believed about these things – in retrospect what should have mattered was that as a young person I would have been more quick to listen to and discuss ideas (that were somewhat brand new to me, to actually dialogue over) rather than to think, along with hoards of other young folks, that we suddenly knew things in a better way that older folks.

Now, there truly is a flip side to this…the young are indeed the makers-and-shakers at times…I think of the Cat Stevens song Oh Very Young…. but this is another subject.

I have the image of a mother cat softly batting her kittens around to them to teach them something…my aunt indeed knew the fragility of life and the power of prayer. It wasn’t wrong for me to give this to her of course, but when it came back to me all those years later, it meant so much more to me.

I had lived enough by then to begin to understand what it meant.

My aunt also started making notations on other items to whom she wanted these things to be given to after their deaths. The two glass pieces below were marked for me, along with one of my aunt’s silver cross necklaces. I was told they always kept these two picture holders on their dresser with a photo of my uncle and my father from World War II.

One day a few months back I dug out my aunt’s silver cross that I haven’t worn in years and slipped a piece of jewelry my younger son made and gifted me several years ago onto the same chain. The item he had given me was on some type of twine rope. I simply wanted to link them together. Though I am unclear the exact meaning of Hebrews 11-12, there is mention of being surrounded by a “great cloud of witnesses” (the faithful who have gone beyond) and I sometimes wonder how things in heaven and earth connect, spiritually. It was just a symbolic act of faith and hope, for me.

I am now reminded of one dear photo of my sons when they were young. This was taken on a trip to their grandparent’s on the Outer Banks of North Carolina. I framed it years ago almost right away, with some calligraphy piece I used to do around that time.

“I have no greater joy than to hear that my children are walking in the truth.” III John 4

In this sad conversation with my elderly friend I suggested maybe she might start doing something similar – gift some items or make some notations. I thought it might give her some sense of peace and hope that if she took care of some things now, she wouldn’t worry so much what might happen in the distant future.

I also tried to help her think about it being OK that some things might not be kept by others because they didn’t hold the same associations. I try to tell myself this, too, as my home surroundings and possessions hold so many meanings and life stories for me.

These things truly are temporal comforts to the living – the ones for whom these objects have been created for and hold precious meanings and their life stories – and later others will get to select from what is left behind that which has meaning for them. The idea of letting go of this unknown and uncontrollable process to some degree can be a difficult one.

Actually many things we keep we cherish because that is how WE obtained them…they have associations with a deceased person. So it is like some memory chain. And I imagine the older some object is that makes the cut, so-to-speak, of being kept in the family…well…it is an heirloom of sorts.

I shared with my friend about two objects I selected from my childhood home after my mother passed. There were certainly many more items – many – of all sorts that I kept, but I told her about these two in the conversation. Elderly people need to talk and they also love to listen. The sound of one’s voice telling a story to them is welcome – they have time on their hands, and I hope and imagine it makes them somehow feel more alive.

The first object is an old lamp that was in our living room and I could remember my mother on occasion sewing at night and using this lamp by a chair. I kept it, and later when the shade started to have issues I modified it with some gluing and decorating (to cover the gorilla glue that dripped when I tried to re-attach it to the gold shade frame!).

I also told her about a little Dalmation head bookend. This object was in our basement for some reason when I was young and it actually frightened me. I don’t know why. I thought it was an alligator head. And I can recall when I’d go down the steps at night into my father’s workshop, as I passed through the first area, I would see this thing and had some type of fear about it. I really don’t know why.

Perhaps my Daddy had been teasing me once about it being a “gator” and maybe it would “get me”…who knows…he would play around with me sometimes like that, just in fun. I remember running quickly in my little bare or socked feet because there were “thousand leggers” (I think he called them) on the walls! Centipedes…millipedes…doesn’t quite matter…they were so huge and creepy!

I remember cleaning out the house in 2001 and finding this little Dalmation head thing, holding it in my hand and studying it. I put it in the keeper pile…because it was a symbol to me of continued learning to not fear in that time period of my life…late 30’s… And one year when a church Sunday School was doing an “Ancient Rome Marketplace” theme and wanted people to bring items that could be “idols” (props in the marketplace), this one came to mind.

Perfect! Looks just like a little kid learning Bible stories might picture some golden idol…ha ha…

Currently, it makes a great door stop.

Oh Very Young

Oh very young
What will you leave us this time
You’re only dancing on this Earth for a short while
And though your dreams may toss and turn you now

They will vanish away like your daddy’s best jeans
Denim Blue fading up to the sky
And though you want him to last forever
You know he never will
(You know he never will)
And the patches make the goodbye harder still

Oh very young
What will you leave us this time
There’ll never be a better chance to change your mind
And if you want this world to see a better day

Will you carry the words of love with you
Will you ride the great white bird in together
And though you want to last forever
You know you never will
(You know you never will)
And the goodbye makes the journey harder stillOh very young
What will you leave us this time
You’re only dancing on this Earth for a short while
Oh very young
What will you leave us this time

Source: Musixmatch

Songwriters: Islam Yusuf / Stevens Cat

Oh Very Young lyrics © Cat Music Ltd., Cat Music Limited