Sex was a subject rarely mentioned in my childhood years of the 1950’s. It was not spoken of in public and especially not from the pulpit during a church sermon in Ireland!
But I recently recalled a time when a young visiting priest broke all those rules.
He plainly stated to all parishioners present: “You are living proof that your parents loved each other. You were conceived in love”
Quite a profound declaration in two simple sentences, wouldn’t you say?
Memories such as this from long ago tend to come back to us as we age. And we often see them in a new light from our present perspective.
I get along well with old people. This may be because I am one. Come to think of it, I may have mentioned this previously. Please forgive me if I’m repeating myself as old people are wont to do.
Elderly folks have built up a lot of experience, knowledge and practical know-how on survival. Their hopes, dreams, loves, losses and hard knocks over so many years have made them what they are - hardy old troopers. They’ve weathered it all and are still around to tell their stories.
Just look in the eyes of the next one you run across and you might catch a glimpse of some fierce survival instincts. They can roll with the punches, take a licking and still fight on.
Their friends, family, relationships and community form the glue which holds them together.
And I didn’t even mention grandkids.
Overall, I would say, the essence of that glue is love.
Many times through your younger life you may have wondered about and questioned the who, why and wherefore of it all. And with advanced years it may hopefully fall into place for you.
There are people you happen to cross paths with in this life’s journey. After a time you get to know and love them. They become somewhat like a family of kindred spirits. You care for them and become attached.
When the time comes to move on and depart this world, it’s so often quite difficult to untangle emotional ties and let these attachments go.
Our elderly have been around for well near a century. They’ve lived, laughed, cried and had their days in the sun. However that same sun still rises each morning and they are still here to welcome and enjoy it. And of course they want this to continue.
The beat goes on. My heart beat goes on and I’m so glad it does.
I have two brothers and three sisters and we are all still continuing on into vintage old age. Good genes of exceptional longevity perhaps, or just plain good luck?
There seems to be a bit of nobility in the aging of humans. That’s the way it’s starting to appear to me.
So many moons, sunsets and seasons have passed and gone. Our years, I suppose, are like pages of history. Our memory is the true human experience of having a life of adventure, ups and downs, pains, sorrows and exhilarating joys. And at the end, if the negatives are outweighed by all our joy, thrills and adventure, then it’s been a good life.
I fear, dear reader, that I’ve become what I never thought, dreamed or expected that I would - old.
I am old. (Opps, I’m repeating myself again) At least that’s what all the facts, figures, medical diagnosis and society at large tells me.
Still it’s hard for me to believe it. I still feel like I’m in my early twenties with a whole life ahead of me.
Many seniors I speak with about this feel very much the same.
Maybe we should be off and gone by now and let you young whippersnappers take over and see if you can do a better job. Good luck!
You may think it’s all new and improved here in this modern world. You could say we don’t need all those human antiques hanging around. And you may be right.
We like to think we have hopefully done our bit to keep the wheels of progress turning.
Through war, peace, good times and bad we have soldiered on.
But all in all I think we, like you, are links on a long chain of mankind’s progress and progression.
So as we leave our grandkids with hugs, squeezes and loving kisses we would likewise wish to do the same with you young’uns.
I hope you can see that you and I really are living proof that life is a long chain of love.
Dan is at danhughoconnor@gmail.com