At SM the other day I heard “I’ll Be Home For Christmas.” Playing holiday songs too early has always annoyed me. But this time I was in the moment, and it didn’t much matter that it was only the first week of October.
I got a little melancholy, a bit weepy. Maybe it was just something that got in my eye.
Time has flown insanely fast and here we are almost at the year’s end. Has it been going at neck-breaking speed for you, too? Or is this just happening to us, people of age, who wish we could stop time in its tracks, just a bit?
We want time to take its time. What’s the hurry? I can’t run fast enough, and the brisk is gone from my walk, so please, don’t move in such haste. Allow me to catch up. Let me savor what remains.
Poignant meaning
Sitting with classmates over salad and pasta the other day, I heard it over and over again: “My goodness, time has flown.”
And yet we have the same 24-hour days. Nothing has shortened that. I suppose that when you get “up there” in the age scale, it just seems to go faster. The secret is to not let it get away from us.
“Life with here a smile, with there a tear, relentless river.” I remember those lyrics from “Cycle of Life,” a song my mother loved to sing. I don’t know who wrote it. When I Google it, what comes up is “Hakuna Matata” from “The Lion King.”
The next line continues: “flows from day to day, from year to year and lingers never.” When I was a little girl, those words were etched in my heart simply as part of Mama’s song. Only recently have I discerned their poignant meaning.
We may be getting on in years, but our experiences and the time we have lived are our wealth and a treasure to be sought after and tapped by those who come after us. Let us make ourselves available then.
True, we have slowed down considerably. But we can try, can’t we, to go with the flow and move, even dance, ever so slowly, to the rhythm of the times?
When we were young, we thought we had forever. Not so! No matter, it’s time to celebrate life!
Pep talk
If all this sounds like pep talk to you, let me say you are right. We need it, after all, at any age. There are times when, if my spirits were flags, they would be barely flying at half-mast. Other days my flags just refuse to unfurl.
So I treat myself to a little pep talk; in private, of course, lest they commit me to the funny farm. I give myself a swift mental kick in the rear. And suddenly my flags wave proudly and in full color.
Pep talks are emotional speeches, sometimes silly, often vigorous and eloquent, that help build enthusiasm. They are morale boosters that awaken our slackening confidence.
At lunch the other day there were a few in the group who needed a push, a strong nudge if you will, to get started. I realize that when things are not going well, when you have aches and pains and you see more loss than gain on the balance sheet of your life, it is easy to just give it all up and tell yourself it’s over.
But it’s not. Not by a long shot. Not while you believe. Not while you trust that God is in control.
Today we try to encourage our children, especially our grandchildren, in whatever they are into. Young people want to know we have faith in them, that we believe they are capable. They need to hear words that embolden them to step up to the plate. Unfortunately, we don’t get a chance to do so too often anymore.
Immensely grateful
The truth is, the tables have turned. The children have taken over. What should they speak into our lives?
The last thing an elderly person wants to hear is, “Mom, you can’t be doing that anymore.” Instead, Mom and Dad need someone to tell them, “It’s a piece of cake. Of course you can do it!”
Older people need to be encouraged, stirred into action, and allowed to think for themselves. Too much cajoling and pampering, they say, can atrophy the brain and cause irreparable damage.
I have a son who, bless his heart, must think his mother is still 35.
“Of course you can handle stairs, Mom,” he scolded me as I raised questions about his design of my lovely casita, with the bedroom on the second floor. He was right, of course, and today it is wonderful exercise for me, and as I climb every señorita step, I am immensely grateful.
No matter how long my journey takes, I want to do nothing short of excellent. I want to keep going, and keep on trying, not stopping until at last I get on “the path that leads to awesome.”
