Age and Indifference

Rabbi Irwin Wiener, D.D.


As we get older we start to think about yesterday and maybe yesterday’s yesterday. In fact our thoughts always focus on what was and not what is. That is, until something happens that makes us realize that today is here, the today that we dreamed about yesterday and maybe even dreaded.

We all have dreams. Some of us dream about what was instead of what is. We do this because the present, in some respects, is very difficult to concentrate on. It contains illness and pain and disappointments. Years ago we never thought about all these things because we were immortal, impervious to unpleasant expectations.

Now we are at the ebb. The waters of our life are receding. The tide goes out and does not return. The richness of the flow has dried-up. We look in the mirror and we see a different person, a person we do not recognize. We see a person who has lost the glow, the spark that ignited a flame of desire and fulfillment.

I am reminded of something I received that was posted on a doctor’s office wall:

Said the little boy,
“Sometimes I drop my spoon.”
Said the old man,
“Sometimes I do that too.”
The little boy whispered,
“I sometimes wet my pants.”
“I do that too,” laughed the old man.
Said the little boy, “I often cry.”
Sadly the old man nodded and said,
“So do I.”
But worst of all said the little boy,
“It seems that grown-ups don’t pay attention to me.”
With that he felt the warmth of the wrinkled old hand,
“I know what you mean,” said the old man.
A tear and a smile were seen upon each other’s face.

How sad that when we get older it really is as though we are back once more to our youth. The cycle is never-ending. We start in life being dependent and we somehow find ourselves again relying on others.

There is an old Yiddish folk saying: Parents once taught their children to talk; today children teach their parents to be quiet. Where is the patience we showed when our children required that of us and now as we age deserve the same consideration? No longer are we the wise ones. Now we are the inconvenient ones. No longer are we the givers. Now we are the takers. And there-in lies the resentment.

Have you noticed that that feeling resonates with caregivers as well? Have you noticed the impatience attendants show the infirmed of advanced age? It is as though they should not be there at all. Life is over for them. Why are they such a burden?

I read a poem written by and older person who died in a geriatric ward of a hospital. It was supplied to me by a good friend, a doctor, with whom I have had many discussions about faith and healing and pain. Dr. Jerald Altman is a kind man, a feeling person who sincerely applies his craft to relieving the hurt and discomfort of those afflicted with the agony of illness. In his honor I repeat excerpts of that poem:

See Me

What do you see, nurses what do you see?
Are you thinking, when you look at me-
A crabby old woman, not very wise,
Uncertain of habit, with far-away eyes,
Who dribbles her food and makes no reply,
When you say in a loud voice – “I do wish you’d try.”

Is what you’re thinking, is that what you see?
Then open your eyes, nurse, you’re looking at ME…
I’ll tell you who I am, as I sit here so still;
As I rise at your bidding, as I eat at your will.

I’m a small child of ten with a father and mother,
Brothers and sisters, who love one another,
A young girl of sixteen with wings on her feet,
Dreaming that soon now a lover she’ll meet;
A bride soon at twenty-my heart gives a leap,
Remembering the vows that I promised to keep;
At twenty-five now I have young of my own,
Who need me to build a secure, happy home;
A woman of thirty, my young now grow fast,
Bound to each other with ties that should last;
At forty, my young sons have grown and are gone,
But my man’s beside me to see I don’t mourn;
At fifty once more babies play ‘round my knee,
Again we know children, my loved one and me.

Dark days are upon me, my husband is dead,
I look at the future, I shudder with dread,
For my young are all rearing young of their own,
And I think of the years and the love that I’ve known;
I’m an old woman now and nature is cruel-
‘Tis her jest to make old age look like a fool.

I remember the joys, I remember the pain,
And I’m loving and living life over again,
I think of the years, all too few-gone too fast,
And accept the stark fact that nothing can last-
So I open your eyes, nurses, open and see,
Not a crabby old woman, look closer, nurses – see ME!

Yes, age can be daunting and frightening. It can be all these things and more because we understand that life goes on and we are not going to be part of it anymore. But then we should always remember the Psalmist’s admonition to say to God: “Do not forget me, God, until I have shouted of Your strength to the next generation.”

This should be our concentration: To be grateful for the past, appreciative of the present, and ever thankful that we have had a part in determining the future. We have witnessed offense and forgiveness, loneliness and love, pain and compassion, defeat and victory. Who could ask for anything more? We certainly don’t want anything less.