The Decade of Relinquishment - Emerson Colaw

THE DECADE OF RELINQUISHMENT

I am 93 years old.  In my youth I never dreamed of reaching this age. Adolescents don’t think about such matters for they have too much in the present that intrigues them and challenges them.  But when we reach mid-years, we begin to think about the closing decades of life.  I have titled the nineties as the “Decade of Relinquishment,” for many of the things that we have spent our mid-years accumulating, we now begin to lose in the decade of the nineties.  Of course, there are those who find humor in these later years.  When I was serving as Bishop in Minnesota, one of our conference members was a retired pastor who was 109 years old.  One day he told me that he had gone to his 80^th class reunion, and then with a smile he added, “The advantage of going to your 80^th reunion is that you don’t have to remember any names.”

There are many columns, articles and books written about aging that talk about how we can do this in a way that is positive, fulfilling, and gratifying.  Many of these resources suggest that it is entirely up to the individual as to how these later years can be experienced.  I am frequently asked: “How do you age gracefully?” I always answer that question by suggesting they not overlook one crucial factor.  It all depends upon retaining a measure of health.  It’s hard to be graceful if the body is being ravished by cancer.  But apart from that, while the nineties represent a decade of relinquishment, they can also be a time of reward. 

But first, an acknowledgement of what is lost in the decade of relinquishment.  If a couple enters the decade married, it’s almost a given that they will be separated by death.  My wife died after we had entered the nineties.  One psychologist has suggested that the loss of a spouse is life’s most traumatic experience.  I find myself breaking into tears at unexpected moments, even though it has been more than two years since her passing.  And the experiences that can catch me in an emotional moment can vary greatly – the sight of a woman my wife’s age and I think about what might have been; or hearing a familiar hymn, for one of the things we did was sing when driving on trips.

This next loss I speak of facetiously even though it profoundly alters our lives.  It is that tense, embarrassing, uncomfortable session when the adult children gather with the parent as delicately as possible suggest the time has come to “turn in the car keys.”  My adult children did this to me more than a year ago.  My generation grew up with the automobile.  Starting at the age of 14 I drove a car to high school.  It was our entry into a larger, more exciting world.  To be told that you no longer have access to the larger world of freedom, growth, adventure and exploration is a devastating development. I was not totally convinced that this drastic measure was necessary in my case but now, a year later, I have experienced a sufficient number of physical losses to convince me that the step of relinquishing the keys was necessary and wise. 

There is another loss that is quite threatening.  It is the loss of identity which goes with what you do. Who are you?  I am a pastor; I am a teacher; I am an officer with such and such a company.  We are what we are by what we do.  For years I thought of myself by what I did – I was a preacher.  I was often invited to other parts of the nation to “preach.”  When I entered my nineties, this stopped.  I have not received an invitation to preach since I became ninety!  I’m not complaining; this is simply the way it is.

The thoughtful ninety year old will try to make the transition into the decade of the nineties an experience of growth and fulfillment.  I cluster my suggestions around three words.  The first is transition.  Some years ago there was a book published with the title “Passages.”  The author, rather young, outlined the passages that we experience before the age of fifty: Adolescence, empty nest, mid-life and so forth. But everything after fifty was lumped together as “senior years.”  Those of us who have made it to the nineties know that there can be as many “passages” after fifty as before.  So if you have been successful in making all these transitions, why can’t we view this new transition as another in a long line of successes.  Remind yourself that you have been blessed with a unique privilege.  Relatively few have the privilege of exploring a decade characterized by such longevity.  Accept this new challenge with excitement.

A second word is “personhood.”  While working on this paper I had lunch with a friend, a renowned psychologist.  I told him the theme I was developing and his immediate response was: “Just because it is the decade of relinquishment doesn’t mean you have to relinquish your personhood.”  In other words, this new decade must not rob you of your unique, divine image.  The real “you” must not be shrouded in bitterness, whining, nor a spirit of non-forgiveness.

When I want to say “I miss my beloved spouse, I miss my independence, I miss my car, I miss active work such as preaching,” when I want to say these things that I feel, I should acknowledge them but not dwell there.  I must “transition” to the next passage, even as I realize the correctness of the events that cause me to feel some of the things I have expressed. It is appropriate and necessary to express feelings even as we are sensitive to the feelings and needs of others, particularly those of our family, some of whom may in time be our caregivers.  As we think of our identity and how this must be preserved, we remember that “being” is as significant as “doing.” Take time to keep the mind stimulated, read, visit an art museum, don’t lose sight of the real “you.”

Third, celebrate the gift of relationship.  You can now watch your grandchildren play ball, help them with homework or a Sunday School lesson.   Here is where your faith enters.  We must cultivate a relationship with the Creator.  There is a saying that you are not asked to meet more challenge than you and God can meet together.

Recently, someone gave a book to me that is titled: “Prayers For the No Longer Young.”  I wish to share a few of the petitions: “Lord, thou knowest better than I know myself that I am growing older and will soon be old.  Keep me from the fatal habit of thinking I must say something on every subject.  Release me from craving to straighten out everyone’s affairs.  Help me to be helpful but not bossy.”

Here is a petition from another source: “Lord, in our youth we were taught to have high aspirations and to work hard to achieve them.  Help us in our old age to realize that we can no longer carry the responsibilities we once did.  Help us to be content with small achievements.”

Here is another: “Lord, I want to have a few friends in the end.  Keep my mind from the needless recital of all aches and pains.  The rehearsing of them is growing sweeter as the years go by.”

Here is one I like: “Give me the ability to see good in unexpected places and talents in unexpected people.  Give me the grace to tell them so.” 

It may be that living in the age of relinquishment will bring you good in an unexpected place.  I close with these lines from John Greenleaf Whittier:

            No longer mindful of the years of care and pain

            My eyes are filled with grateful tears

            For blessings that remain.

Emerson Colaw

*****

Emerson Colaw was born in Chanute, Kansas. He earned a B.S. degree from the University of Cincinnati. He received a B.D., magna cum laude, from Drew Theological, an M.A. from Garrett Biblical Institute, and has done graduate work at Union Theological Seminary in New York City and at Lutheran School of Theology at Chicago. He has received honorary doctoral degrees from five different institutions.

Ordained deacon by Bishop H. Lester Smith and elder by Bishop G. Bromley Oxnam, Emerson Colaw has been member in the New York, Northern Illinois, and West Ohio Annual Conferences. He was elected to the episcopacy in July 1980 by the North Central Jurisdictional Conference. He was assigned to the Minnesota Area where he served for eight years, until his retirement. Currently, he spends the winter as Bishop in Residence at the North Naples United Methodist Church in Florida.