PASSING TIME, PASSING THROUGH

Passing time with my mother in-law on her birthday was a gift to everyone.

Her birthday was May 5, Cinco de Mayo, and we worked it hard every year.

So did she.

In her 90th year she drove home from an errand.

Later in the day she and I went out for a drink.

A day later she had a stroke; two days later she died.

She’d been a great reader and probably familiar with Simone de Beauvoir.

Growing, ripening, aging, dying — the passing of time is predestined, inevitable.

There is only one solution if old age is not to be an absurd parody of our former life, and that is to go on pursuing ends that give our existence a meaning — devotion to individuals, to groups or to causes, social, political, intellectual or creative work.

In old age we should wish still to have passions strong enough to prevent us turning in on ourselves.

One’s life has value so long as one attributes value to the life of others, by means of love, friendship, indignation, compassion.

~Simone de Beauvoir

 

She was as devoted a woman as I’d ever met with her friends and clubs and meetings.

Her favorite was Daughters of the British Empire, but she made time for a Beaverton women’s group who focused on small scale farming in Africa.

She was excited enough to think about an African safari.

Me: You’ll need shots.

Judy: I’m sure I will.

Me: Let’s watch National Geographic.

Judy: Cup of tea?

Me: Thank you.

She eventually decided against a safari and instead looked at Oregon Wildlife Safari.

We never made it there, but I like thinking of her on the wild plains of Southern Oregon.

 

Stepping Lightly On The Earth

One important part of aging like fine wine and cheese is coming to grips with yourself.

Will you ever be a poster boy for health and fitness? No.

Will you ever run that six minute mile? No.

Will you ever write that book? What?

At some point you let go of those wild aspirations of looking like Arnold, winning an Olympic medal, and graduating from college.

Or not.

I’m doing weight training for aesthetics now instead of power, which is about the same thing with me.

Not too powerful, not too aesthetic, but striving.

About that Olympic medal? I still get a laugh when I say, “It’s an Olympic year. There’s still time to get in shape.”

My educational goal was to graduate from college before my kids. Checked that box after dropping out time after time.

Now I’m a public blogger using historical references and personal anecdotes to weave post after post.

Many of my English professor followers say they’ve never seen anything like it, thank goodness.

I don’t enjoy saying the same thing on endless repeat, but liking yourself, coming to grips with your dreams and failures and calling it a good life if the first order of business.

Passing time the right way gives value to the life of others, by means of love, friendship, indignation, compassion.

Maybe it runs in your family?

 

The Wrong David

I’ve always thought of the big David in Italy when I think of statues, or Donatello’s David.

This is neither. This is Antonin Mercié’s David in Paris.

He knocks the giant down, cuts off his head, then rubs it in. Brutal.

Instead of the pre-battle focus, we get the post-battle footrest.

Either way, it changes how we look at the work.

He’s a killer who gets into it.

Passing time with the wrong self image happens — when someone points it out, be easy on them.

Me: Hi, I’m David.

Them: You don’t look like the David.

Me: I’m not that David.

Them: I’ll say. You don’t even look like Donatello’s David.

Me: I’m more of a Mercié’s David. In Paris.

Them: In that light I can see it.

Me: Good arm, strong foot.

 

Be devoted to your better self and share the results.

Leave the absurd parody of the youthful seventy year olds to themselves.

Embrace aging, then take a nap while you’re passing through.