Take My Hand Again

Feeling Invisible

October 13, 2015 by Nancy 20 Comments

A common comment coming from the lips of aging adults with enough boldness to speak the truth is, “I feel invisible.” In her book Voices of Aging, author Missy Buchanan presents perspectives on several key topics from the point of view of the adult child and the aging parent. One elder said, “Sometimes I feel obsolete. Unnecessary. Irrelevant. Like a carton of milk whose expiration date is long past.” Another aging parent said, “I remember sitting in my room while my children talked about me as if I weren’t even there.”

No one should feel so invisible. If we take the time to look into the eyes of older people, and truly listen to what they say, it’s possible to see both who they were, and who they still are.

“Don’t judge my story by the chapter you walked in on,” reads a poignant anonymous quote. But isn’t that what we do? If we meet someone for the first time at the end of their lives, don’t we too often forget that this is simply one chapter? Would we want those who meet us later in life to make that same error in judgment?

This week I will add another assisted living Bible study class to my schedule. I sought a location close to our new home so it will be easy for me to visit there during inclement weather. I felt the Lord leading me to the place I selected, but when I met with the activities director there I learned that 90% of the residents have dementia. Will they still have moments of clarity when they can hear the truth of the gospel presented in the lessons in The Hope of Glory? Will the old hymns stimulate their long-term memories and put a smile on their faces? I pray so. But if not, the homemade cookies and hugs I offer will have to be enough of a reason to show up.

Most important, as I look forward to meeting these dear old souls, I pray I’ll be able to see who they were at a younger age, and who they authentically are today. I want to know about the earlier chapters of their no doubt fascinating lives, and appreciate the totality of the lives they have lived. I don’t want them to say, like another older person in Buchanan’s book, “My life is a library filled with books that no one reads anymore—books of adventure and romance, advice and how-tos.” As I get to know them, I hope to explore all the volumes of their lives.

Even people in their sixties, those categorized as “young seniors” but on the far side of “prime,” can feel invisible at times. Meeting the residents in the patio home community to which we moved this past summer, I sometimes think quietly to myself, “I sure wish I’d known you sooner.” And I wouldn’t be surprised if those who met me for the first time thought the same thing.

Recently we had a social gathering in our community and as I met each 60-plus person I couldn’t help but surmise: He must have been an effective CEO before he retired. She was obviously a beauty queen or a cheerleader. He was probably an excellent athlete earlier. She has no doubt been a patron of the arts her whole life. That couple must have always been partiers! Seeing them as they are now provided me with plenty of clues to the earlier chapters in their lives, and I’m looking forward to getting to know more about each person here. None will be invisible to me.

From the youngest to the oldest, we can all feel invisible at times. Yet we are never invisible in God’s eyes. He always sees us as we are and wherever we are, and only He sees who we ultimately will be when all the trappings of this earth fall away. Invisible? Not on His watch.

Late-in-Life Love

August 28, 2015 by Nancy 10 Comments

I just spent a delightful day in the company of a close friend, a widow, who told me with stars in her eyes that she “met someone.” Both my friend and her new beau are in their seventies, but as she described their meeting she said it was as if she were thirteen again—all the same butterflies flitting around inside her! The “sweet nothings” they whisper to one another may have to be spoken a bit more loudly at this age, she confessed. And instead of getting-acquainted questions like “what’s your sign?” it’s more likely “are you on any medications?” But the sparkle in her eyes and the giggle in her voice told me this is true love all the same.

Is it ever too late for love? I don’t think so. Many years ago my mom was also in her seventies when she began a long companionship with Cecil, a dear family friend. He had lost his wife and my dad had passed away. The two couples had known one another since junior high. Mom and Cecil kept being asked to the same social gatherings, so eventually he said, “There’s no reason for both of us to drive. I’ll swing by and pick you up.” Thus began a 15-year relationship that nurtured them both.

My sisters and I were very fond of Cecil. Our families had vacationed in Florida together many times over the years, so we already thought of him as a second dad. He was extremely witty, and we quickly welcomed him to family gatherings. We would not have minded one bit had Mom and Cecil decided to take the next step and get married, but they never did. Theirs was a platonic love, but a true one.

And the benefits of their relationship were many. They looked forward to seeing one another and having a reason to get dressed up. I’m sure they both ate more nutritiously than either would have without the other, as my mom would cook a real meal once or twice a week when Cecil came over—usually to watch a University of Tennessee ball game—and they had a standing date for brunch after church.

“We don’t even have to tell each other entire jokes,” Mom said the day she called to let me know what was going on with Cecil (lest I hear rumors of impropriety!). “We know all the same jokes, so one of us just remembers a punch line and we have a good laugh!”

Many seniors would be open to late-in-life love but aren’t sure how to meet someone if they don’t have a lifelong connection like my mom and Cecil shared. Some actually have success with online dating sites, but more likely they connect through a mutual acquaintance or a shared interest. Other couples reconnect at a 50th or 60th high school reunion, after both are single again, and pick up right where they left off—although not as likely in the back of the pick up! Psychologists explain that the spark of “first love” is one that is easily rekindled, and every summer this romantic phenomenon plays out around punch bowls in gymnasiums from coast to coast. This gives new meaning to the phrase “take my hand again” that I’ve been using to refer to adults helping aging parents.

Is it ever too late for love? I think not. As for me, I’ll stick with the love I married when I was forty. A good man is hard to find at any age.

Portions of this blog post are excerpted from the author’s book, Take My Hand Again, Kregel Publications, 2015.

Meet Two New Friends

January 14, 2015 by Nancy 8 Comments

Today I’m happy to introduce my blog subscribers to Carol Heilman, an author I met through Lighthouse Publishing of the Carolinas (the publisher of my book THE HOPE OF GLORY) and her wonderful character Agnes Hopper. Carol’s book, AGNES HOPPER SHAKES UP SWEETBRIAR, will release on January 29th. Having met some wonderful “characters” in assisted living communities myself, I can’t wait to read it. Click HERE to order on Amazon.com.

When I asked Carol how she came to write about Agnes, this is what she told me:

AGNES HOPPER SHAKES UP SWEETBRIAR began as a short story assignment for a creative writing class at the University of South Carolina over ten years ago. Our instructor told us to place ourselves, along with some of our friends, in a foreign environment and to step back and see what developed.

I chose the porch of a retirement home because a standing joke, among a group of my friends and myself, was that one day we would end up living in such a place together. Before I had written two pages the characters, with their own, unique names took on their own personalities. I was fairly new to such writing adventures and was taken aback. They began to assert themselves and I decided I needed to pay attention, to listen and watch—for my scenes often unfold like a movie in my mind’s eye.

The short story ended when Agnes slipped out the back door of Sweetbriar Manor. Then I began to ask questions. What if she . . . Agnes Hopper’s story evolved and continues to evolve and surprise me. I am delighted to have a part in the telling of it.

Wishing all the best to you and Agnes, Carol! Thanks for sharing.

The Thanksgiving Table

November 25, 2014 by Nancy 18 Comments

I saw her coming down the hall as I was setting up for The Hope of Glory class in assisted living. Her feet were well padded with several pairs of socks, making it possible for her to propel her wheelchair slowly along using one foot at a time.

“Nellie!” I called out. “Are you coming to Bible study? Would you like me to push you?” She answered yes to both questions and then lifted her feet straight in front of her to expedite our journey into the activities room where I wheeled her to the end of the table.

On the table was a multi-colored fall tablecloth. It was one I’d taken home to wash after an event at church, only I’d forgotten to take it in on Sunday, so it was still in the backseat of my car. I saw it when I reached for my book and plate of cookies for class. At the last second I grabbed the tablecloth also, thinking it might brighten someone’s day. Little did I know how much.

During class, I noticed how fascinated Nellie was with the tablecloth. “Oh look,” she said, pointing with her gnarled finger to specific places in the design. “There are apples and grapes on here. I could make apple juice with apples like that—and grape juice with those grapes, too!”

Our lesson was titled Attitude of Gratitude: How it’s important for us, as we age, to replace any grumbling with gratitude for the gift of living a long and productive life. We looked at key Scriptures on thankfulness, including how we are to give thanks in all circumstances as we read in 1 Thessalonians 5:18—not necessarily for all circumstances but in all circumstances. And we talked about how remembering what the Lord has done for us in the past can help us be more grateful in the present. But I’m not sure Nellie was listening.

I noticed her place both hands on the tablecloth, palms down, and begin smoothing out the wrinkles, just as women have done for generations when setting a Thanksgiving table. What is she thinking about, I wondered. Is she remembering Thanksgivings when she set a beautiful table in her home for her husband and children, or when she helped her grandmother smooth out her best linen tablecloth for a family Thanksgiving on the farm?

Nellie picked up one edge of the cloth and slowly ran her fingers along the hem to the corner. I wondered how many tablecloths she had laundered and folded in her lifetime.

I felt so blessed after class. We don’t have family coming home for Thanksgiving this year, so I won’t be setting a fancy table or stuffing a turkey. I’m fine with going out for a change, but seeing Nellie’s reaction to that tablecloth brought back a flood of treasured memories. I remembered my mother’s Thanksgiving table with mums in the turkey centerpiece, and all the tables I set for our family over the years.

Are you setting a table this year? If so, get out your best tablecloth. Smooth out the wrinkles with both hands. During dinner, record the faces gathered ‘round the table in your heart. We can’t always be with the people we’d like to be with on Thanksgiving due to weather, distance, resources, even death or divorce. But we can be grateful for those who are around the table with us, and be fully present for them.

At the end of class today, when I asked Nellie if she had any prayer requests to add to our list, she looked up at me and smiled. After a moment’s pause, she said, “Just for everyone to be happy.” Me, too, Nellie. Me too. Happy Thanksgiving.

Joy Is Where You Find It

October 31, 2014 by Nancy 20 Comments

I was sitting in my doctor’s office waiting to be called in for a flu shot when I saw them enter: a man about my age and his quite elderly mother. He walked slowly, keeping cadence with her pace. She leaned over her walker and shuffled toward the check-in desk.

“My mom is here for her 11:00 appointment,” said the son, giving his mother’s name.

“Has she been in Africa in the last 21 days?” the receptionist asked in all seriousness.

The man looked over at his fragile mother, then back at the receptionist. “Well, I don’t think so, but I guess I should ask her,” he replied. He turned toward his mother and said in a voice loud enough for her and everyone in the waiting room to hear, “Mom, have you been in Africa in the last 21 days?”

From my perspective I couldn’t see the elderly woman’s face, but I could see her frail shoulders bouncing up and down as she chuckled to herself. “No,” she said, and as she turned to move toward a chair in the waiting room I could see the amusement in her eyes still. What a sweet moment the two of them shared. What unexpected joy was found in what was no doubt an appointment neither particularly wanted to keep. The receptionist was just following office procedure during this recent Ebola scare, and didn’t know she’d brightened the day of everyone within hearing distance in the process—especially the day of the elderly patient.

As soon as the man and his mom had come through the door, my heart had gone out to them. It’s impossible for me to see someone helping an elder they love without remembering such days with my mother-in-law and my mom, both now in heaven. Oh, how I prayed I could get my mom-in-law into Wendy’s for the cheeseburger and Frosty she craved without her falling. She planned morning doctor appointments so we could indulge ourselves at Wendy’s afterwards. I didn’t want her to fall on my watch.

My mom remained fairly mobile until near the end of her life, but I remember how cautiously I drove whenever I had her in the car, and how I insisted she wear her seatbelt—an invention she never appreciated fully.

But there was joy in those times, too. How I wish I could take Mary Frances for a Frosty, or Mom for a ride, one more time.

I was called in for my shot. Leaving the doctor’s office a few minutes later I walked by the chairs where the man and his mother were still waiting. The three of us shared a smile, and the knowledge that loving is always worth the price. Especially on days when a little unexpected joy comes your way.

Just Start

August 25, 2014 by Nancy 14 Comments

When my son Tim gave me a copy of Jon Acuff’s book Start I thought the subject might have come a bit late for me, but I was wrong! I just finished the book and it’s full of motivating advice for Boomers like my husband and me who are launching Act 3 of our lives.

I also saw application for elders we all know and love. Even people in their 80s and 90s can “punch fear in the face, escape average, and do work that matters” as this author urges. With thanks to Jon Acuff (who also wrote the wildly popular, humorous book Stuff Christians Like) here’s some motivation for us all.

At any age each of us can stop living an average life and start living an awesome one. Acuff says that to get to awesome there are two questions we should ask ourselves: “If I died today, what would I regret not doing?” and “Are those the things I’m doing right now?” Younger people might have feats like running a marathon or going to medical school on the list of things they would regret not doing, but our seniors may list things like, “Call my sister in Idaho and have a nice long chat,” or “Take a walk around the block each day.” The point is to stop thinking about what you wish you were doing and begin doing it—one small step at a time.

Moving from average to awesome takes us through several stages according to Acuff. First we learn about the things that interest us, then we edit down to just what we are most passionate about. The third stage is to master one or more of our passions. Then we begin to see the fruits of our efforts; we begin to harvest. Finally, in the awesome life, one gets to the stage of guiding or mentoring others. But that’s not the time to rest on your laurels. Oh no. Once you get to guiding, then you simply start again!

When I think of the older adults I know and love, I wonder if they fully realize how much they have mastered, and how valuable and helpful it would be for them to enthusiastically share their harvest and guide others. Even if it’s how to make a pie crust or when to plant spring crops, every older person has something to share. When we encourage them to do so, we will watch them change from average to awesome right before our eyes.

Did your mother immigrate to this country as a child? Did your dad serve in World War II? Help them tell their stories to a group of school children and share some living history. Do you know an older woman who might be willing to teach someone how to crochet? The opportunities for “awesomeness” are limitless.

As longevity increases, news reports are replete with stories of people in their 90s and beyond who take their first motorcycle ride, go skydiving, or take a long anticipated vacation. But it doesn’t have to be something so dramatic to move older adults from average to awesome. Listen to what matters most to the elders you love, and help them find a way to move closer to living an awesome life. It’s never too late to start.