Life is really all about making adjustments, isn’t it? As children, we adjust to the rules our parents lay down for us, and, of course, we rebel against some of them. As students we adjust to the discipline required to obtain an education. As young adults we adjust to the pressures of earning a living, dating, getting married, raising children, buying a house. In middle age we adjust to grown children, empty nests, the return of the grown children, and setting the stage for retirement.
Which brings us to the senior stage, where I happen to reside now. Again, there are adjustments. More free time. Health concerns. Managing money so that you will have enough. Grandchildren. New aches and pains every day. By this time hopefully we are old enough and wise enough to make the necessary changes in our routine and lifestyle to maintain at least a reasonably good quality of life and happiness.
You get used to not being able to do things as nimbly and athletically as you could when you were younger. You get used to having to take a little more time to get up off the floor after sitting down to play with the grands. You get used to taking pills. You get used to waking up earlier in the morning, going to bed earlier at night, eating lunch at 11am and dinner at 5pm…..promptly. Frequent doctor appointments. Getting confused by technology.
But as long as the Good Lord allows me to live, there is one thing I will never get used to. As the years pass on, I keep losing good friends. Sweet people with whom I have so many treasured memories and experiences. Folks who are just part of me. I guess that’s why I take their passing so hard, because a part of me, that relationship that we shared, dies with them.
Yes, I’m getting older. Most of my circle of friends and acquaintances are around my age, and thus it’s inevitable that some will cross the bridge. Of course I understand it, but I haven’t learned to handle it well. Don’t guess I ever will.
The Covid outbreak, when it was at its worst, was especially heartbreaking. It took several of those whom I loved. Other diseases continue to do the same. Just recently, it happened again. Her name was Carol Miller. Cancer got her. She was a subscriber and frequent commenter on this blog. Many of you readers know her, and that’s not a coincidence. Carol was one of those salt of the earth people who drew people to her like bees to honey. I first met Carol and her awesome husband Guy when they joined my Sunday School class many years ago. She was the first to volunteer whenever any act of ministry needed to be organized or done. She and Guy opened up their home for countless get- togethers and bonding activities. She was a leader of Christian mission groups both local and regional. Most of all, she was a loyal friend, to me and to everyone she met.
We just can’t afford to lose the Carol Millers. This troubled world needs them too desperately. I suppose it should be encouraging that she leaves behind an incredible legacy. She has inspired many, both young and old, to follow her leadership and example. She showed us how it’s done. Hers is a life well lived.
I guess I will get used to not hearing from her now and then, not seeing her supportive comments on this blog, on my Facebook wall and elsewhere. But I’ll never forget her. It seems trite and inadequate to restate the old adage, but it remains so true: treasure every moment with those you care about, because our time with them is finite.
I have learned to live with that.
But I’ll never get used to it.