Throwaway People

October 4, 2011 by Robert Ringer

Throwaway People


Katharine Hepburn once said, “Life is hard. After all, it kills you.”

A couple of weeks ago, my wife and I had an appointment in Arlington, Va. As we were walking toward our destination, we noticed a thin, elderly lady standing near the street corner. She was exceptionally well groomed, and she was dressed in a colorful, neatly pressed outfit.

Leaning on her cane, she was looking around in what appeared to be a confused manner. We were concerned, because it was a very hot and humid day. As we approached her, my wife asked if she needed any help. She smiled sweetly and said that she was looking for her bank, but was not certain she was walking in the right direction.

She went on to explain that she had glaucoma and could not see very well. When she gave us the name of her bank, I told her that it was just on the other side of the street and said we would be happy to help her across. She appeared to be pleased by the offer.

My wife and I took hold of her arms, waited for the streetlight to change, then slowly helped her to the other side. As we approached the curb, she explained that even though she was not totally blind, she could not see the curb clearly enough to be sure she wouldn’t trip and fall.

We carefully guided her up over the curb and onto the sidewalk in front of the bank. She assured us that she could make it into the bank on her own, so we wished her a nice day and began to turn away. But as we did, she began talking to us about her life and her family. She said she was 90, and her eldest sister was still alive at age 99. She also mentioned that she had another sister who had passed away.

Several times, I said that we had to be running along to avoid being late for our appointment. Each time, she went on to another subject: her deceased husband, her osteoporosis, her medical-doctor son. She seemed genuinely excited to have someone to talk to, and she clearly did not want the conversation with two strangers to end.

It was obvious that she was very lonely. One side of me wanted to stay and talk to her for as long as she wished, but the other side of me was thinking about our appointment. Awkwardly, we finally ended the conversation.

As my wife and I walked away, we turned around and watched that adorable little lady walk, with considerable difficulty, toward the door to the bank. I couldn’t help wondering if her doctor-son knew that his mom was walking by herself to the bank in the hot, humid weather.

As a result of that unexpected encounter in Arlington, many thoughts drifted through my mind during the remainder of the day. First and foremost, I thought about my own elderly mother. She was the ultimate housewife/mom at a time when such an occupation was considered noble. She spoiled the heck out of me, and I loved every minute of it. More important, I loved her dearly… and still do.

I remembered how, from the time I was about 6 years old, whenever I spotted the smallest bit of debris on the floor, I would pick it up and throw it in the wastebasket because I didn’t want my mom to have to bend over. Now, with six children of my own, I’m still in awe of the fact that merely by being who she was, she motivated me enough to want to spare her any unnecessary work.

I also thought about how long it’s been since I visited my mother. And I thought about the time, when my brother-in-law’s mother died and I offered my condolences, he said, in a reflective tone, “You only have one.” As we go about our day-to-day lives, I guess it’s pretty easy to forget the obvious.

Hugh Downs, now 90, has often expressed his belief that there is more prejudice against the elderly than any other group in our society. He is especially offended by the cry to get “older, dangerous” drivers off the road. As he puts it, “We should get all dangerous drivers off the road.”

I believe one of the chief reasons we tend to brush aside the elderly is that not only is the society we live in drowning in materialism and narcissism, but it is a throwaway society as well. No one fixes anything anymore. When something is broken, you just throw it in the trash can and buy a new and better model.

So it’s only natural that we do the same thing with old people, right? After all, they can’t be fixed, so why not just throw them away? It’s too bad we place so little value on the elderly, because, on the whole, they have so much to offer: wisdom, purity of thought and, above all, tranquility. If the medical community could transplant an 80-year-old brain into a 21-year-old skull, one can only imagine how much better the life of the young person who owned that skull would likely turn out.

I believe it’s healthy to be conscious of the fact that we’re all on our way to the same destination: old age (provided we’re luckier than the Tim Russerts and Tony Snows among us). And when we arrive at that destination, let’s hope that we won’t be walking down a street alone, cane in hand, barely able to see the curb… and that our children will visit us often.

As Katharine Hepburn once said, “Life is hard. After all, it kills you.”

Robert Ringer – Posted at Personal Liberty

About Ask Marion

I am a babyboomer and empty nester who savors every moment of my past and believes that it is the responsibility of each of us in my generation and Americans in general to make sure that America is as good or even a better place for future generations as it was for us. So far... we haven't done very well!! Favorite Quotes: "The first 50 years are to build and acquire; the second 50 are to leave your legacy"; "Do something that scares you every day!"; "The journey in between what you once were and who you are becoming is where the dance of life really takes place". At age 62 I find myself fighting inoperable uterine Cancer and thanks to the man upstairs and the prayers from so many people including many of my readers from AskMarion and JustOneMorePet... I'm beating it. After losing our business because of the economy and factors related to the re-election of President Obama in 2012 followed by 16-mos of job hunting, my architect-trained husband is working as a trucker and has only been home approximately 5-days a month since I was diagnosed, which has made everything more difficult and often lonely... plus funds are tight. Our family medical deductible is 12K per year for two of us; thank you ObamaCare. But thanks to donations from so many of you, we are making ends meet as I go through treatment while taking care of my father-in-law who is suffering from late stage Alzheimer's and my mother-in-law who suffers from RA and onset dementia as well as hearing loss, for which there are no caretaker funds, as I continue the fight here online to inform and help restore our amazing country. And finally I need to thank a core group of family, friends, and readers... all at a distance, who check in with me regularly. Plus, I must thank my furkids who have not left my side through this fight. You can see them at JustOneMorePet.
This entry was posted in Changing Winds, Family and Friends, Knowledge Is Power, Thoughts ... and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s