Crossroads

Walked into a restaurant Sunday evening – actually late afternoon, 4 pm. Staggered in with 7 other people from church. This is our 8 to Eat group, a social mixing of members so we get to know each other better. As we progressed toward our table, I became aware of how halting our entry to the dining room was. Three of the members walked with canes. Three of us walked with uncertainty and difficulty. Three were pulled into our parade by chance; our progress was slow. Servers and wait staff held back to let us pass.

“The old people are here!,” I said to whomever was nearby. A small ripple of laughter was the response.


I turned to one of our number and said, “when did I get so old?”  He politely demurred.


Scanning the menu we each commented on the selections. Then the litany of health restrictions surfaced. You would have thought we needed a hospital dietitian to guide our choices. None were available so we giddily considered the fun options.


I recall a time I visited my parents in Arizona at their senior housing facility. We went into Phoenix for a concert, then drove back home and stopped at a Dunkin’ Donuts at 10 pm or so. Eight of us, mostly elderly except for my 45-year old self. I remember the delight they had in a late night cup of good coffee and a freshly baked donut. The laughter was infectious. The bubbly enthusiasm for life delicious.


Later, I’d ask my folks how so and so was doing and had they seen them lately. The answers inevitably were disappointing.  “Casey had a stroke and is in long-term care now,” mom said. Dad quietly reported two deaths among the group. But I remember their joy and laughter of that evening.


An elder community lives with the constant change of illness and death. Relationships altered without recovery. Focus on self is inevitable along with the wonder of ‘when will it be me?’


As I sat with our 8 to Eat group, those thoughts niggled into my consciousness. Was I experiencing that same short-term joy and wonderment that my parents had? The laughter was real and welcome. So too the bantering exchanges. Puns flew fast and furious. The food came but the talk remained.


We enjoyed our time together. As we ventured the short way home, Rocky and I spoke of the outing. I shared my memory from Arizona. Together we arrived home in silence. Thinking. And wondering.


February 26, 2019