Romano Guardini, a spiritual director and theologian, wrote a book on Stages of Life, in which he noted that there are transition points between stages. The transition for entering into the stage of “Old Age” is “Letting go.” As I have recently turned 80, I have been experiencing this transition, and may have a few things to say about it.
I see this as talking about letting go of things which have transient value and holding firmly onto things of eternal value, as Paul’s Letter to the Colossians says,
“If then you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth. For you have died, and your life is hid with Christ in God. When Christ who is our life appears, then you also will appear with him in glory.”
Colossians 3:1-4
There are many things that often challenge people about letting go as they age. I want to mention three categories of things that have made a difference for me:
- Work, career, productiveness, accomplishment
- Health and bodily abilities, self-sufficiency
- Relationships, activities
All of these usually involve our identity, our sense of who we are and where our value comes from. This is the crux of the problem. If we have based our sense of self in our career or our self-sufficiency, seeing that threatened is a difficult thing. Not being able to do things is hard, but no longer being something for ourselves and others is much harder.
Work and career
Personally, I had less of a problem with retiring from my profession as a medical doctor than some do, because I never officially practiced medicine full time after I finished my training. Mind you, I put in a lot of hours, but I was always balancing other roles, such as marriage, mothering, community life and leadership, etc. I lived my professional life as separately from my private life as possible, working hard as a doctor when at work or on call, and trying to avoid having it consume family time when I was off. Because of this, being a doctor never was my whole identity. I was Dr. G during working hours, and Mom, Grandma, or just Ellen the rest of the time.
Another thing which helped me was that I retired in stages. I would recommend this to those who can swing it – it makes it easier to adjust to changing and diminished roles. I had a private practice for 30 years, and then I sold it (that was rather hard – I liked my practice and my office) and worked in a practice serving patients in various nursing homes for another ten years. I finished up with a job with a bigger title than the job itself – I was Medical Director for the Employee Health Service of my local hospital system – or six hours a week. It was the perfect semi-retirement job.
It was harder to give up my role as Senior Woman leader in the Word of Life Community. The first time I went to a women’s event where I had not been involved in the planning was hard. I was so used to being involved and responsible that I felt unsettled, insecure, off balance. I realized that I had taken pride in being a Senior Woman Leader, despite my efforts at humility. On the other hand, the second time I was at such an event, it was great! No responsibilities! I could just enjoy the event and simply be with my sisters and the Lord. There is a great deal to be said for not being in charge.
Health
When you start having health problems, you begin to hear death knocking on the door, and that is significant. So far I have had only a series of minor health problems, more of annoyances than dangers. Even so, they have changed my life. They take time and effort and mess up my schedule. I find that my personal hygiene and other routines have become longer, slower and more burdensome. For example, my dental hygienist has me using four techniques and four tools in an effort to improve my “periodontal pits,” which concern her. Just caring for my teeth is now a complicated, time consuming effort.
And then there are Pills. I used to pride myself on needing no prescription drugs. After all I was a doctor! I prescribe pills for others; I don’t take them myself! These days, I am “doctoring,” as my patients used to say, for my feet, knees, GI system, my equilibrium, teeth eyes and, of course, my cholesterol. All of this involves appointments with multiple doctors, and at least five prescription meds. How the mighty have fallen!
But I am getting off easily, at least so far. Although my eyesight, hearing, and mobility aren’t what they used to be, I am doing OK. I haven’t experienced the dramatic ways in which failures in these systems can affect one’s life. But I see it in friends and family, and no longer blithely think I am immune.
What I have experienced is the erosion of my self-image as a strong healthy person, one whose body can do whatever I call upon it to do. I vividly recall the first time I noticed this. I was standing on a stool, doing something to a hanging plant. When I was done, I said “I’ll jump down now,” but nothing happened. I was still on the stool. I again instructed my body to jump, and again it ignored me. I said “Oh, I see! We no longer jump off stools.” So I stepped down rather carefully. This was the first of a long series of things I no longer do, including bicycling (knees), running (equlibrium), working in the garden for hours (getting pooped), and driving at night (eyesight).
I have not yet faced needing help with activities of daily living, but if that day comes, I expect it to be hard. However, I’m glad to say that my mind is still intact, except for remembering names and words. You may have heard the story about a pastor who made a call on an elderly woman in his church. After the courtesies, he thought he should get down to business, so he said “Mrs. Jones, do you ever think about the hereafter?” She replied, “Pastor, I think about it all the time. I go into the kitchen, and I think ‘What am I here after?’ I go upstairs and I think, ‘what am I here after?’”
All of this is humbling, awkward, and limiting. I struggle with accepting what cannot be cured, and with the hassle of trying to cure what may be curable. Despite what people say, this is old age. You may have heard the new old saying “50 may be the new 70, but 80 is still 80.” But I am encouraged by the fact that there is a reason for this increasing frailty. It is to wean us from the world and make us willing to die. If we were forever young and strong, we would be less likely to long for the hearafter, the new life in a risen body, with the Lord we love. As it is, I can honestly say I don’t want to live forever here and now with my current body. When he calls me, I expect to say “Here I am Lord, take me.”
Relationships and abilities
People die or otherwise drop out of one’s life– grief comes to us, and loneliness threatens and happens. I am not going to say much about this, except that it is the great grief of human life that nothing good ever lasts, particularly not people and things we love.
The truth is that failing abilities, such as not liking to drive at night or not being able to hike very far, even on the paved “handicap accessible” path, interfere with my sense of being a competent, able person. I cannot take care of my house and yard as I used to. I am watching gardens I have labored over being taken by weeds. And this is a loss and a grief. But these are not the really important things.
Holding on to what really matters
So what really matters? What are the things I need to hold onto and not let slip away? Most importantly there is my relationship with God. This holds and fosters my primary identity, which is that I am a daughter of God. I would like to hold onto many important human relationships, but that is not in my control. What I can do is cling to prayer, praise, and the support of others who love God. As long as I can, I want to live in service to others, and when I can’t I want to welcome their service to me. Love flows between us either way.
Old age can bring a willingness to die and be with God, a detachment from health and life. My destiny really is not to live forever here and now, it is to dwell in the courts of the Lord of Host, singing his praise with those whose joy is to praise him for all eternity. This is what really matters. All other things pass; they are of time. I am created to be of eternity. I need to focus on the things that endure.
See related articles in Living Bulwark:
- Eternity Bound: An Interview with Mike Shaughnessy on the Grace of Ageing
- Late-life Metanoia – A Reflection on Aging and Dying, by Mike Shaughnessy
Top image credit: An illustration of a man clutching riches and gold suddenly turns his face toward heaven and sees Jesus seated on his throne inviting the man to seek first his kingdom and come follow his path to everlasting life with Christ. Quote from Philippians 4:11-12 added. Image created with digital paintbrush and AI enhanced artwork from © Artstyles.com. Used with permission.