Existing vs. Living: The Senior Challenge

When I retired in 2005, I was keenly aware of the warnings I had heard: plan ahead, know what you will do with your time. So I took a short course in teaching ESL, formed a group with some of my classmates ("ESL Volunteers of Northern Virginia") and started teaching.  I taught Mondays and Wednesdays at the Herndon Workers Center (since closed) and Saturdays at the Herndon Neighborhood Resource Center.  On Tuesdays I volunteered at the Embry Ruckler shelter for homeless people. For seven years I felt fulfilled, thankful that I was getting to know so many wonderful people, many of whom (though we never asked) were probably so-called "undocumented immigrants."  By chance, three of our students lived right next door. Sometimes when I met some of the homeless people at the library, I was the grateful recipient of generous bear hugs.   These people were great!

In 2012 I finally had to acknowledge that I physically couldn't continue.   For one things, I was the front desk person at Embry Rucker, whose duties were answering the phone and interacting with the residents.  My hearing was such that I sometimes couldn't understand what people were saying on the phone.   People would say, "Put somebody on the line who can hear!"  So I regretfully resigned from Embry Rucker and ESL Teaching. I settled into a routine: wake up at 6:30, read the paper in bed and have coffee until 7:30, go to the gym for an hour, return home, shower, dress, have breakfast and take a nap.  The remainder of the day I spent checking email, my bank account and Facebook, and reading.   Not a very inspiring schedule. When Qenehelo, my wife, came home from work at 5:45, I'd  complain, "I'm just existing!"

So what to do?  I remembered a sermon my friend and pastor, Rob Merola, gave during Lent.   Rob recalled that Jesus had been in the wilderness and had not eaten for 40 days when Satan came and tempted him: "If you be the son of God, command that these stones be turned into loaves of bread."   The reply was important: Man does not live by bread alone."   In terms of this post: we are not here just to exist.

So I joined the Herndon Senior Center with daily activities and lots of very old members.  (I exempt from this challenge, by the way, people suffering from dementia.   We need to comfort and  love these people who through no fault of their own can no longer carry on the daily activities of life.)  For the rest of us: consider Rob's answer to the question of meaning: "Love and be loved."  It's something all of us can do.  None of us exists in a vacuum.   In my case, I have my immediate family: my dear wife Qenehelo with whom I have been together for 33 years, my son, Thabie, a wonderful piano teacher, and my kind and caring daughter Palesa who sometimes frets over all the preparations of her forthcoming wedding.   Then there are my friends at the gym where I go every morning, my friends at the senior center, many of whom are physically diminished, and my fellow parishioners at church..As I reflect on this truism, "Love and be loved," I realize that the senior dilemma is everybody's existential question: How can I make my life meaningful?