April 1995 Print

by andrew Lisle

Age. It comes already to everyone now reading these words, simply because there was a time in your memory when you were too young to read; you have since aged beyond that point. Age is the herald of Death, and like his master, inexorable.

We start with our First Communion and Confession; then Confirmation. After graduation from high school and/or college, the weddings begin, our own quite possibly among them. Then comes the round of Baptisms, First Communions, Confirmations, graduations, and at last more Baptisms. And then, the funerals, proceeding until our own.

With the increase in life expectancy, due to medical advancement, old age is becoming ever more common. Because we have a diminishing birthrate at the same time, however, it becomes ever more difficult to see how the elderly will be provided for. As the size of families continues to shrink, there are fewer offspring to contribute to their upkeep, even at the same time that the tax base for Social Security is eroding. What then should be the role of the aged? How should the younger folk deal with them? How should they deal with the youngsters?

We should look first at the role of the aged in Christendom. Age then was considered to be a blessing–an understandable view when the life expectancy was in the fifties, due to plagues, warfare, and the like. Then, the aged were more than just weak white-haired folk. They were the memory of the community, and a repository of its traditions. Since the middle-aged were employed making a living from the fields and forests, it was left to the elderly to pass on to the children the people’s notion of how life ought to be led, their folk-tales and songs, and their religious attitudes. The very name, “village elder” summons up a picture of wisdom. While today we use the phrase “old wives’ tales” rather scornfully, the fact remains that such tales were taken quite seriously once upon a time, and had enough truth in them to last.

Part of this veneration was the gift of Catholicism, which in many places elevated the stature of the elderly even as it did for women. Yet there was also a very practical side to having a high regard for the words of the aged, as this story from Latvia:

Long ago, before the Letts (as the people of that country are called) received the light of Faith, it was their custom to save needed food supplies by leaving the elderly out in the deep forest to die of exposure or be devoured by wolves. If a man could no longer work, he must no longer eat. Thus it happened that a man was bringing his aged father on a sleigh out to the woods, accompanied by his own eight-year old son. When they reached the appointed place, the man, whose heart was already breaking, turned to leave his father without a word. But the eight-year old said, “Oh, Father! Do not leave the sleigh behind! I will need it for you when your time comes!”

At that, the man realized how terrible was this custom. They brought the old man back and took care of him despite his inability to work. They concealed this from the neighbors. It came to pass that that part of the world was hit by a famine. Every day food became more scarce. From giving his father a slice of wheat bread in the morning, the man was forced to give him ever coarser rye bread. At last, the day came when he had nothing for the old man but a slice of barley bread, rough and dry. His father said “I cannot eat this; my teeth are too poor.” “But Father, it is all we have. When it is gone, we will have no food at all.”

The old man thought a bit and said, “Take all the thatching off the roof. Thresh it, and you should find some grain yet remaining in it.” The middle-aged man did so, and found enough seeds to plant half and use the rest for food. He told his neighbors, who all did the same. The village was saved, and ever since that time old age has been held in great honor among the Letts.

So, indeed it was everywhere in days gone by. In Grimm’s fairy tales, for instance, every old person encountered by the hero is called “mother” or “father.” Great stress 
is always laid on the need for due respect to be given the aged, who are inevitably sought out for advice.

But that was long ago. Today, once the 2.5 children grow up and leave (assuming, of course, that the parents have not divorced and confused the situation with several half- and step-siblings), the likelihood is that they will move far from their parents. The elderly couple themselves (again, assuming that they have remained together) will very likely leave the old home in which they raised their family, and move to housing for “active seniors.” This may very well be in a seniors’ colony in some place like Arizona or Florida. The “residents” spend their remaining years playing golf or taking classes, and often trying to act much younger than they are. All the time their lives are led with a minimum of interaction with their families. They dress like kids, they attempt to romance like kids. Perhaps at Christmas or Thanksgiving they see the children and the grandchildren. But for all the effect such folk have on their progeny, they might as well not see them at all. Of course, less prosperous folk might well live in senior housing in the city of their last residence. Being much poorer, and possibly lacking any family at all, their lives are not silly, just dismal. I have stood in the supermarket watching an old lady push a cart filled with cans of dog food and bottles of Scotch. I do not think she had a pet.

Whatever the case, as age continues its work on us, we become weakerand sicker. The usual solution is a convalescent home. These are frightening places, filled with elderly who have lapsed into senility, or whose physical capacities have deserted them. Visited now and then by family, if 
they are lucky, these folk lead a strange half-life, surrounded by strangers and regrets.

What, then, to do about all of this? As with the other major societal ills that afflict us, there is no immediate answer. But an individual can do a great deal. For starters, the elderly need to realize that they have two great gifts: experience and time. It is hard for them to see how quickly the events of the past are buried in the popular consciousness. For instance, to college-age kids today, the days of Jimmy Carter are the dead past. Where does this leave Pearl Harbor, Korea, the Depression, D-Day, etc.?

We live in a throw-away society, where fashions and fads come and go faster and faster. Like George Orwell’s 1984, our corporate memories are continually being altered. For example, how many supporters of abortion today can remember that before 1973 they thought it murder? Older folks can do a lot to remind the young of the way things actually were in days gone by. This is more important than ever as the media form our culture ever more in its own image.

The elderly, however, are as much affected by events as anyone else. When an older person finds himself saying such things as “Well, you have to move with the times,” or “Things have changed,” or “You have to face it, people are different since I was young, and you just have to go along with it,” we should ask, “Why?” Why should the person in question tolerate something he was taught was wrong? But moreover, he must be able to explain why it is wrong. The younger generation takes little or nothing on the word of authority anymore; the responsibility for that lies with the older generations who debased authority. The sad fact remains that most elderly are as cut off from the traditions of our Faith and culture as anyone else. It is true that no one knows their Catholic Faith as well as they should, but the elderly (too many of whom spend time on trips to Las Vegas, playing golf, filling out sweepstakes forms, pouring over the daily paper and the NYSE quotes, watching Oprah, “As The World Turns” and “Wheel of Fortune”) should know better. If Grandma and Grandpa spent some time with The Liturgical Year or some other great Catholic classic and then “mediated” it, so to speak, to their younger relations who do not have the time to do their own research, they would be doing them a great favor.

If Grandma and Grandpa immigrated from a people who had a Catholic culture and remember customs and stories from their youth or childhood, they should pass them on. Unfortunately, because life and assimilation in this country are what they are, it is too often the case that grandparents are embarrassed to do so, or, know no more about these things than their younger descendants. If so, it is time to learn. Pick up a book like Customs & Traditions of the Catholic Family which reviews the religious customs of Mexican, Slovak, Polish, Irish, Italian, Portuguese, Louisiana French, and Kansas Germano-Russian Catholics! Find out what your people did on feastdays and the like. See what might be incorporated into your present life, particularly on those holidays when the kids are likeliest to visit. Learn which of Our Lady’s titles and which saints and devotions are most popular among your people and incorporate them into your own religious life. Find an ethnic cookbook and experiment with it, or, a book of ethnic folktales and tell them to the grandchildren. Study up on the history of your country of origin, especially its Catholic chapters, and your family genealogy. In a word, try to make yourself the kind of village elder or old wife you would have been. Make yourself a repository of tradition.

 

This brings us to another point: acting one’s age–and dressing it. Society encour-ages one great attribute next to and as part of youth–sloppiness. Such casual gear as jeans and T-shirts are the order of the day for man and woman, young and old alike, no matter what the occasion. In truth, it looks silly on most of us and grotesque on the aged–most clothes meant to favor the young do so anyway. There was a time, particularly before World War II, when people strove for an elegance of proportion, regardless of their financial ability or social status. “Clothes make the man” is a valid maxim. While the flight to sloppiness was given a terrific start by World War II, it was the 60’s which gave this flight its ideological content. It is not that a jacket and tie or a nice dress make the individual a better person, but it is a signal that he or she respects him or herself as well as others enough to attempt to present the best image possible. It is like dressing for church–You show God respect and you show that you consider yourself worth respecting. 
So when an old lady sighs, “My mother never used to go downtown without her hat and gloves,” or a man says, “Time was when you wouldn’t think of going out to dinner in a restaurant without wearing a jacket and tie,” we should ask, “Why don’t you anymore?” The whole tone of your immediate ­environment will be uplifted and you’ll give your grandchildren a good example.

Similarly, let us examine our conscience regarding our behavior. Discourtesy, foul language, and rudeness have become a part of society in the same manner as sloppy clothes. Harken back to your childhood when you were taught that such things were not permitted ladies and gentlemen. Politeness and courtesy are hallmarks of Christendom. Give the youngsters a reason to be proud of you.

Which brings us to yet another point. Many older folks complain, “My children and grandkids don’t listen to me or take me seriously.” Be sure that you are worth listening to! We are influenced always by what we admire; children listen to their peers rather than their elders because they admire them more. So if the young are to listen to you, you must be the most admirable person you can be. This means thinking beyond one’s own convenience. Trips to Vegas and through the TV channels might be more relaxing than poring over old books or thinking creatively about the next time you will host your family; it is easier to throw on slacks and a polo shirt than a suit–and you feel more comfortable in the former. But it is just as much easier for the young people in your life to disregard you. Their attention and respect must be won, and once won, maintained.

 

That may be fine for those with families, but what of those without? What about those of the elderly who live alone, without relations near? The loneliness of today’s old age can only be staved off in one productive way: volunteer work. Every parish has a certain number of jobs that must be done–whether it be school, or catechism, or day-care, or festivals, or whatever. These offer the senior a great opportunity to mingle not only with his own age group, but with folk of all ages–to create a sense of family, as it were, and to pass on what skills and wisdom he or she can to the younger generations.

 

So far, we have dealt with the responsibilities of age to youth; let us turn the tables. We get impatient with their crankiness and unreasonableness; we are bored with their stories and interminable needs. As they get more feeble, they become more inconvenient and whiny. In truth, they are an annoying proposition altogether. Wrong!...

They are in fact the key to liberation from the trap of “today.” Older people are a living link with history. Much like the Faith itself though on a smaller scale, they can help us transcend our present time and its strangling self-absorption. In this way, they can help us form an independent identity, not so closely tied to whatever happens to be happening just this moment or just this year. Listen carefully to what the elders have to say. Like 
the old Latvian gentleman in the tale, you may learn something. Older people have been around a while, and paying attention may save you from having to reinvent the wheel.

 

But it might be objected that nothing is so boring as hearing Grandma’s story about her first date again (you know, when Henry McGillicuddy picked her up in his dad’s Pierce-Arrow?), or the classroom visit of the German-speaking bishop when she was a schoolgirl, or Grandpa’s story about how he helped great-grandpa slaughter Boris the pig on that rainy day in June. No doubt they are ten times as long in the telling as they were in the doing. But these ritual retellings of a minor anecdote can become sources of information all on their own. Grandma and Grandpa actually know much more than they’re telling. Remember that in them you have a time machine, and can find out all sorts of things about the era in which they lived. This in turn gives you (or your children) a depth, a strength, which you could not have otherwise, and something against which to evaluate modern ways.

Much can be taken from the ways in which older folk celebrated to help in your own family celebrations of Christmas or Bob’s graduation from high school. To the degree that they’re able, they ought to be given some part in the care and education of the young ones. But there is more involved here. Older folks teach one (for better or worse) how to age oneself. Aware of their failing powers of mind or body, they often reveal their fear and insecurity by lashing out at those they love. On the one hand, one must be loving enough to bear with them, but firm enough to make them recognize what they’re doing. Always, however, it must be kept in mind that they require honor and respect. Their fears center, ultimately, around the same thing we all fear: Death. In the dissolution of the ­elderly before our eyes, we see our own fate.

 

As long as it can possibly be done, the elderly should live with or near their families–both to pass on wisdom, and to be needed and useful. The great enemy of the soul is selfishness. Just as pushing off our older family members to homes can be an expression of selfishness in ourselves, so too can they, living alone, give themselves up to it. There is nothing sadder than to see a man once great–an academic or attorney, say–squabbling with another old person over a scrap of cookie. The reason why old age brings out childishness in so many people is because it strips off the learned veneer of manners and adulthood, leaving exposed human nature in all its meanness. But continued interaction with the young helps not only to give young people a sense of balance and proportion, it does so for the older person also. It is much better that such a one teach his grandson the catechism or tell the story of his first deer hunt, than that he brood on the times when, as a young man, he was cheated out of a job promotion–which, being human, is very much the way his mind 
might work if given no other stimulation.

 

But what if Grandma’s health simply won’t allow her staying at home? What if she has to have constant nursing, or is a danger to herself or others? If she is admitted to a care residence, the place must be as near as possible and family members must try to spend as much time with her as they can.

In all of this, we must bear in mind that the distinction between youth and age is a false one. Both crabbed age and youth live together in each of us. We think of ourselves, really, as the individual we are just at this moment, with a past and a future. But for God there is no time. For Him, all things are now. Time and space form a tremendous tapestry of Creation. From conception to our final disposition at the General Judgment, our lives are like strands running through that tapestry.

 

We can look back to ourchildhood, adolescence, our twenties; Some of us are looking forward to middle age, to senescence; all of us are anticipating death. But what for us is a road which we have trodden and still must tread, is for God a sort of aerial view. In us as infants He sees all the evil and the good that we will do. In us as elderly He sees the end product of those things. Yet from the beginning it was always one and the same individual.

It is important to observe the elderly closely. Let us emulate what is good in their example, discard what is not. We will be there ourselves, and so can look at them as our future. For them, we are their past. If we are related to them, they have had a hand in making us what we are. Surely, even if they are not directly related to us they have had a hand molding the society in which we live. Our love, honor, and kindness toward them now may merit us a happy and useful old age. Their guidance and good example to us may assist them in making atonement for the sins of their youth. In all of this, there is a great potential for the building up of mutual charity, without which none of us can win Heaven.

Splintering and separation is the great trademark of this cracked-up age: religious from temporal, formal from joyous, youth from age. 
It is the good and noble thing to fight this artificial fragmenting. The gulf between generations is a good place to start.