I was seated in a roomful of
colleagues at a meeting of The Coalition for Ministry in Daily Life in
St. Paul two years ago. The call came to
volunteer for a Board position, and a good friend sitting next to me, poked me
in the ribs and said. “You should volunteer.” I said, “No, I am preparing for my
death!” Once the words were out of my mouth, we both looked at each other with
shock. I quickly reassured her that I had no imminent news about my demise. But
then began to wonder, as I have been doing for some months since, what did I
mean and what is the significance of such a declaration for my future?
At 78, I moved into a retirement community this past summer; glad to be free of yard work and snow shoveling but also unsure if I was really comfortable being around “all those old people who looked like my mother!” I have had to keep reminding myself that, in truth, I am as old as most of my fellow residents and probably not as sharp.
My Legacy
There have been a number of changes in my life in recent years. My wife, Helen, and I celebrated our 50th wedding anniversary three years ago though I am quite sure she had no comprehension what our modest observance meant since she had entered an Alzheimer’s Center five years before. In order to care for her in the early stages of her illness, I had resigned from my work in Leadership Education with the Lilly Endowment and sought out volunteer efforts focused on discovering how to support people in their workplace ministries.
Though the changes were major, my mindset really didn’t catchup.... until my “death announcement”. Since that moment in St. Paul, the focus of my attention has begun to shift dramatically. I’ve been asking very different questions and finding my limitations to be a source of insight rather than a condition to tolerate. I have been thinking more about my children and grandchildren and asking challenging questions like “What is the real legacy that I am leaving?” “What is the meaning of “call” at this stage of my life?” and “What do I really have to offer as a 78 year old that reveals what it means “to age successfully?”
Here and Now
Thanks to a good friend and spiritual guide who walked Helen and me through the early stages of her illness, I was invited to ponder the truth that in our senior years we may grow most through attending to our inferior “type”. Those of you familiar with the Myers-Briggs typology will know immediately what I mean. My inferior type is “sensate” which, as I understand it, is rooted in the “here and now”. I am a visionary and strategic planner who doesn’t want to be bothered by the nitty-gritty of the present moment. But what I slowly began to realize is that the “here and now” is the only place I can meet Helen who has no memory of the past nor any capacity to think about the future. I slowly began to understand that the present moment is also the place where I meet the Holy. The here and now, as one of Henri Nouwen’s books suggests, is the opportunity for a new beginning. “We must learn to live each day, each hour, yes, each minute as a new beginning, as a unique opportunity to make everything new.”
“Preparing for my death” no longer seems dark and uninviting; a kind of resignation to my final year(s). It has opened up a new way of looking at my world and my life and those I love and those I am called to serve. It feels full of hope and evokes a deep sense of gratitude for what has been and is yet to come. Somehow the linear nature of life doesn’t feel all that important. Legacy is less something that will be left when I die and more to do with what I am creating and providing in this very moment.
Dick Broholm has worked with the FAW board to define priorities and directions. He also co-led the Mutual Ministry Project with Doug Wysockey- Johnson. A member of Norwell UCC Church, Dick lives in Hingham MA.