I’ve often said that if I believed in
reincarnation, I’d want to come back as an Italian. I know lots of
Italians and they really know how to turn a fabulous dinner into a social
occasion. They love food – and what’s not to love about Italian food –
but they never hurry the eating of it. When it comes to food, my motto
has always been, “Eat to live”, while theirs clearly is “Live to eat”! I
envy their ability to take a wonderful meal and make it an occasion to laugh
and talk and enjoy one another.
But now that I’m in my 60’s, I just might
prefer to come back as an Asian, and it has nothing to do with food.
Asians have a whole different attitude toward the elderly from us
Americans. When I visit the local nail salon run by Asians, they treat me
like I’m a fragile, but revered, visiting dignitary. They take my purse,
hold my arm, and lead me cautiously to the nail dryer.
Then it was a couple of young Asian girls,
a few years ago when I was working in a retail clothing store, who told me I
was beautiful and they hoped their moms aged as well. Only my dad ever
said I was beautiful. It did wonders for my ego and made me long to be
Asian once again!
So why am I wasting “paper” on this topic,
you might ask? Well, I’ve begun to notice lately, especially when I’m out
with my 30 year old daughter Becky (who does happen to be blond, blue eyed, and
easy on the eyes – and THAT may have something to do with it) that I seem to
have become invisible to most people under 50. She’s the one the waiters
and salespeople address first, me second, if I’m addressed at all.
I wasn’t having an easy time aging anyway
so being invisible isn’t playing well with me.
My mother in law, who turned 92 this year,
relates her frustrations with invisibility every time she visits. She is not
a wall flower by any means, but she complains often that few younger people
even notice her or engage her in conversation anymore. That makes me sad.
My own mom, who never graduated from high
school, but managed to rise to the rank of vice president of a savings and loan,
and who had the BEST sense of humor, was just the patient in room 210 after a
stroke made understanding her difficult. It broke my heart that people
continued to care for her body when inside her mind there was still a funny,
intelligent person waiting for someone to listen and try and understand. When
the doctor found that her false teeth had slipped off the side of the bed, she
asked, with a twinkle in her eye, if he also happened to find the salami
sandwich she was eating at the time still attached to her teeth. That was just a sample of Mom’s humor he’d
have missed if he hadn’t listened carefully!
The problem of the invisibility of the aged
is one of the reasons I became involved in hospice as a volunteer. I wanted the elderly people I visit to feel
that they still have value, they’re still worthy of being known, even though
their memories aren’t what they used to be, and they’ve lost much of their
independence. Whenever I visit one of
them at a nearby nursing home, I eventually find myself in the center of a
little cluster of folks in need of a smile or a kind word, or a hand to hold.
So I make it my habit now to go out of my
way to relate to the elderly, and I have been blessed to meet some pretty
amazing people! I’ve met a 90 year old who
fought in a revolution in Cuba in her youth, another with a doctorate in
chemistry, another who was an English lit professor in a college and another
who was still commuting to her job in New York City at the age of 81! Before I got
to know them, they all fell into the category of “grandma types", but
there were really interesting women inside those aging bodies just waiting for
someone to notice them.
So my plan to fight invisibility in the
lives of the elderly I know is to look them in the eye, smile, and ask some
questions, like: So, tell me about yourself; your family; your childhood; the
work you did, etc. With a little
coaxing, I know they’ll be off and running and my time will have been well
spent.
And in my own life, if I can't be Asian, at
least I can continue to seize what life the Lord has yet in store for me and
really LIVE it. So the next time you see a gray haired lady climbing
walls at the rock climbing center, or hang gliding from the Palisades, or
helping to lay sidewalk in the Bahamas, don’t walk on by, and don’t tell her
she’s too old to be doing that stuff – just wave and say hi, it just might be
me!
And someday, if you happen to be visiting a nursing home and you see someone sitting in a wheel
chair looking lonely, look her in the eye, smile and say: So tell me about yourself
- and I will!
