Age Happens
The Yanceys come from good genetic stock, as a recent trip South to celebrate my mother’s 90th birthday reminded me. Her mother, born in 1898, lived through the entire 20th century, as did Janet’s grandmother, also born in 1898.
At the turn of the millennium we tried to explain this accomplishment to Janet’s “little Nanna,” then 102. “Grandmother, you were born in 1898, so that’s the 19th century. You lived through the entire 20th century. And now you’re in a brand new century, the 21st century. You’ve lived in three different centuries!”
She was silent for a moment, and I could only imagine the synaptic storm in her brain as she tried to absorb this news. At last she came out with a response that none of us could have predicted: “Huh. Seems more like five.” She then sat down to play a few hymns on the piano.
Living that long gives one a unique vantage point on history. When Janet’s grandmother died I figured out that she had lived under 20 of the 42 US presidents up to that point. My own grandmother listened attentively in 1991 when I returned from a trip to Russia and described to her the changes taking place after the fall of communism. “I remember when those boys took over,” she said, referring to the Bolsheviks of 1917. “I never thought they would last.” A teenager during the Russian revolution, she easily outlived Soviet communism.
When I asked my grandmother to name her favorite US president she quickly named Roosevelt. “That makes sense,” I said. “He led the nation in World War II, started Social Security…”
“Not that Roosevelt!” she interrupted. “I’m talking about Teddy. I went to see him campaigning in 1912. He was such a handsome young man.”
Longevity is a matter of perspective. A mayfly lasts barely a day whereas a bristlecone pine tree may survive several millennia. On the trip for my mother’s birthday, we stopped by an ancient oak called the Angel Tree, estimated to be 400 years old. When the tree first took root, that part of South Carolina was a wilderness where wolves and cougars prowled; now the region is known more for golf courses and beachfront condominiums.
Age happens, unavoidably, effortlessly. All you do is get up each day and gradually the years accumulate. Oliver Wendell Holmes likened the process of aging to a giant dog that gets into a room with you and grows until there is no longer any space to breathe.
As usual, Mark Twain had a trenchant observation: “When I was younger I could remember anything, whether it happened or not; but my faculties are decaying now and soon I shall be so I cannot remember any but the things that never happened. It is sad to go to pieces like this but we all have to do it.”
Aging brings its own challenges, but it looks better when you consider the alternative. In honor of all of us who advanced one more day today, here is a final thought worthy of contemplation, from Robert Baker: “As I grow older, I care less and less what people think about me and more and more what God thinks of me. I expect to be with him much longer than with you.”
