Have you ever wondered what it might feel like to celebrate your 100th birthday? Have you even taken the time to think about it? Who would possibly be present and how would they look upon you? The probability of such a celebration becomes increasingly likely, as it has been reported that more than 2000 in Canada will reach such a milestone this year. Within our congregation, there are three Sisters born in 1914, and three celebrations, different in tone and style to match the context and the wishes of the woman feted.
In a society where youth is idolized, millions of dollars are annually invested in the production of goods and services that promote the illusion of youth. In this context the markings of old age are often disdained. With an emphasis on performance in our world, those who cannot produce are considered an unwanted burden. In our frenetic pace of life, there is no time for those who can’t keep up. With the breakup of the traditional family system, and the growing urbanization of our world, neglect and loneliness among our elders becomes an increasing phenomenon. And so we hear horror stories of elder abuse in many forms; we are aware of the need for increasingly more spaces and better-staffed facilities for vulnerable seniors. As a society we are slow to address this critical situation.
Almost a year ago I was missioned by my congregation to be local leader for 27 Sisters at our motherhouse, 12 of whom were more than 85 years old. Although I knew that this assignment was fitting for me, I was most aware of my limitations because of total inexperience in health or senior care. I was also one who had often felt drawn to visit our sick and elderly on occasion, but was always too busy. And so I approached this task with some trepidation. A wonderful system for meeting the needs of our Sisters was well in place, and my first challenge was to discover my role within the context of the mandate I had accepted. I had recently ministered at a retreat centre where I had learned to really listen to those who came, and set out to do the same in this new assignment. I listened to the stories of those who spoke volumes about their life and mission; I listened to the silence of those who said very little; I listened to the struggle of those who could not find the words as mental acuity decreased, and I listened to the concerns and compassion of those who were much in tune with suffering in our world. And I have learned that I am not immune to the values of the society in which I live. There were moments when I thought that I could find more productive things to do. There were moments when I felt very uncomfortable because my future of frailty, loss and diminishment was right in front of me and I wanted to run from the reminder.
But I have learned much more. During this year I have encountered an incredible zest for life that astounds me. I have met with the deep pain of helplessness that breaks my heart and I have found a practical wisdom, culled by experience, that calls me to ponder. In walking with our elderly, I am slowly experiencing a transformation that is freeing me of a perspective I unknowingly held. Because I have come to know women who face with courage, compassion and serenity the diminishment of old age, I can more easily look ahead without anxiety. I have come to appreciate the wisdom of experience, the powerful effect of prayer as life diminishes, and the commitment to mission that finds new expressions as circumstances change. In my own journey, I have come to value these women as a source of inspiration, guidance and support and find much to celebrate.
In a myopic society that does not see the needs of the elderly, we are called as Christians to respond in love. I am most impressed by those around me, family, friends and co-workers, who have dedicated their lives to the service of the vulnerable elderly, who go out of their way to make life easier for those who have lost their independence. I admire those who enter the political arena to draw attention to an increasing lack of care for our elderly. At the heart of the matter is a need for a change of attitude that calls us to honour and appreciate those who may have lost the precious gifts of youth, but hold a treasure that our world has no time to rediscover. To find that treasure and to celebrate its value makes the journey toward our own 100th birthday a more wholesome and enriching experience. What do you think?
Joan Driscoll, csj
Imagine yourself in the intensive care unit of your local hospital. Now imagine that the medical team, after a number of procedures, indicate to you that you are in critical condition and could die unless you give permission to try a number of other procedures to restore you to health. You are asked, “Do you want to live?”
