That Other “D” Word

“Old Man with Cane” Created by Dall-E

“You know how people say ‘passed away’ when they mean ‘died’?” our friend, Jim, said recently. “Well, there’s another ‘D’ word, ‘Diminishment,’ and  the euphemism for that is ‘Aging’.” 

Both Jim and I know what he is talking about.  I used to have to walk right along to keep up  with him. Now he pushes a rollator. 

I started wearing hearing aids when I was 35. Almost 30 years later, my hearing got so bad that I underwent surgery for cochlear implants. I also have gone from running 5K’s three times a week, to barely being able to walk a mile. I struggle with chronic fatigue and brain fog due to Long COVID. 

On top of that, I joke that my job was a post-graduate course in aging. During my career as a pastor from 1971 to 2016, the average life expectancy in the U.S. rose from 71 to 78.5. What that meant was that on Mother’s Day in the 70’s, I would see kids, parents, and grandparents sitting together. In the 2010’s, I would see kids, parents, grandparents, and great-grandmother all in the same pew.  Since great-grandmother was probably the only person who still attended on a regular basis, I spent a lot of my time with people in their 80’s and 90’s. 

I learned that “diminishment” means two things: 

– Not being able to do what we used to do. 

– Not being able to be who we used to be. 

Sometimes, just turning a page on the calendar will change who we are. A colleague said that his father complained, “Yesterday, I was the boss of the biggest construction project in the state. Today, I was issued a card that lets me go bowling for half-price.” 

That’s why Supreme Court Justices and Senators and our President still hang on to their jobs into their 80’s. I can’t say that I blame them. It’s taken me six years to quit dreaming every Saturday night about preparing (or not preparing) to lead worship on Sunday. 

The other form of diminishment is when physical and mental limitations keep us from doing what we used to do. 

In those post-graduate studies I mentioned earlier I saw people handling diminishment with three other “D’s”: Denial, Despair, and Discernment. 

I work as a volunteer with people who have hearing loss. The first barrier to overcome is denial. People wait an average of seven years between the time they notice they aren’t hearing as well as they used to and when they start looking into getting a hearing aid.  

What are they doing in those seven years?  

  • – Driving family crazy when they turn up the TV too loud. 
  • – Losing their own ability to speak clearly – as they unconsciously mimic the way they are hearing words pronounced. 
  • – Mishearing what was said and being embarrassed so that they learn to pretend to hear when they don’t or they withdraw from conversations entirely. (The last one is why hearing loss is highly correlated with cognitive decline). 

So, why do we live in denial? 

To save ourselves from the despair we will feel if we face the truth. Jesus may have said, “The Truth will set you free,” but we don’t really believe it. And, yes, I’ve talked to way too many people who faced the truth of their diminishment and despaired. On some days, I have been one of them. 

However, I have seen others take a different road and I am trying follow it myself. It is the Way of Discernment. 

Most of us are familiar with this famous proyer:  

Lord, grant me the courage to change the things I can change. The serenity to accept the accept the things I can’t change. And the wisdom to know the difference. 

Reinhold Niebuhr

The trick is finding the wisdom to know the difference. I think James Baldwin shows us the way:  

Not everything that is faced can be changed; but nothing can be changed until it is faced.

Yes, I said above that facing diminishment can lead us into despair, but that is because we jump too soon to the conclusion that our life is essentially over. “Facing” really means looking at the problem and asking, “Is there anything I can do about this?” 

Take hearing loss as an example. We are fortunate to live in an era in which technology can help us overcome a lot of the limitations imposed by hearing loss. However, sticking a hearing aid in your ear is not the same as putting on eyeglasses. We are required to work at learning to use the aid correctly and to be proactive about asking people to speak more clearly. (And to sometimes explain why, as the writer, Katherine Bouton says, Shouting Won’t Help)

But, not everything can be overcome. I am still trying to discern if there are answers to Long COVID. I’m convinced that I can’t take a pill that will cure me. I am discovering that fasting has made a difference, as well as patient, disciplined forms of exertion. But, I’m still not running any races. 

I could despair about that, or accept it with serenity. On my good days, I choose the latter. At a superficial level, I like to think of myself being as cool as Tony Bennett asking beautiful girls to walk a little slower.

But, I also am discovering something deeper. The psychoanalyst, Ernest Becker, wrote in his book, The Denial of Death , that aging requires “terror management.” For Becker, I think (I don’t pretend that I’ve read his book carefully enough to understand it fully), the trouble with being human is that we can anticipate death and  knowing we will die threatens us with meaninglessness. 

In contrast, the Christian tradition describes a scene shortly after Jesus has died his terrible death and then reappeared to his disciples. In this scene, Jesus says to his disciple, Peter, 

Truly, truly, I say to you, when you were young, you used to dress yourself and walk wherever you wanted, but when you are old, you will stretch out your hands, and another will dress you and carry you where you do not want to go.”  — John 21:18

Christians read that as a prediction of Peter’s eventual death by crucifixion, and Jesus is reassuring Peter that even that will have a purpose in his life.  But, those words  also describe what will happen to a lot of us, if we live long enough. 

As things fall away in my life; as people I love more than life itself die; as I look at a picture taken 50 years ago and barely recognize the young man I was then; as my vibrant wife, three months younger than me by the calendar and fifteen years younger by any other measure, goes off to the theater while I go to bed, I still sense that there is something  that I call “me” that I am just discovering. 

William Stafford has expressed how I feel as well as anyone can:  

There’s a thread you follow. It goes among

things that change. But it doesn’t change.

People wonder about what you are pursuing.

You have to explain about the thread.

But it is hard for others to see.

While you hold it you can’t get lost.

Tragedies happen; people get hurt

or die; and you suffer and get old.

Nothing you do can stop time’s unfolding.

You don’t ever let go of the thread.

The Way It Is, by William Stafford. 

I think Jesus was saying to Peter that even at the end, when he is helpless, he will still be following the thread of his life. 

Whatever happens, beloved, your life isn’t over until it is over (and maybe not then). Hang on to your thread. 

8 thoughts on “That Other “D” Word”

  1. Beautiful insights about aging, Roger. Thankfully, your brain fog hasn’t stopped you from writing so well.
    I’m reminded of the personal growth my husband had when he had lost his “full powers.” Thanks for sharing.

    Reply
  2. I love the picture “Old Man with Cane.” Reminds me of Jim! My diminishment is self induced: Since the beginning of Covid I have stopped going to a gym and working with a trainer. I have a new dog that I walk four times a day, but that hasn’t stopped my love of just sitting all day and reading or watching movies on the iPad. I began PT last week for a common female problem, but each day I “forget” to do all the exercises. My “D” is often “Don’t wanna Do it.” It’s not Despair, but kinda the residual laziness of my life. Or perhaps Depression. Or maybe even oncoming Dementia. (Jim says I need to Declutter. The other day I read that a messy, cluttered house can be a sign of Alzheimer’s….) My mother lived to be 87.5 and after 75 she sat. My grandmothers sat. One lived to 83 after two heart attacks. Do I have to keep working so hard to live my life happily? Or can I just keep sitting, especially on the days maybe twice a week when I don’t have meetings or volunteer tasks to do?

    Reply

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