Finding value as we age; after the reunion.

Sitting in my hotel room hovering over my lap top attempting to concentrate on my email, I began to notice my feelings of anxiety and some trepidation. I couldn’t put my finger on it, however, it was disturbing. As I spoke to a friend about it over the phone a few moments later, I identified the fear of attending my 50th high school reunion coming up in a matter of hours.

Over 100 of us, plus spouses and partners, were converging upon Grants Pass, OR to renew old friendships, stories, sports, classrooms, and teachers. In the back of our minds I am sure each of us wondered if we would know anyone. As I drove into town I looked carefully to see if I might know the person I was passing. Certainly, I did not want others thinking they did not know me. I had no idea what I was about to encounter.

Later, as I entered the room where the reunion was to be held, I took one brief look at those in the room and stated, “I am in the wrong place.” These people looked older than I thought myself to be. Immediately, I got caught up in the hoopla of the moment and the joy of seeing classmates I had not seen in 5-50 years. I even joked during my comments to the group that none of us probably see ourselves as old as the ones next to us.

As the evening wore on, I was becoming more aware of feelings deep inside. Stopping to identify them at the time would extract me emotionally from the entertainment and enjoyment of the moment. After all, it was a reunion to experience classmates with whom I had shared moments from joy to excruciating trauma some 50-54 years ago. Some even longer, as we attended Jr. High together. One of the things I shared with some classmates, with whom I had just walked off the golf course, was that I had never felt a part of my class. Just this sharing helped to feel a part. I wondered how many others felt the same way.

The weekend was tremendously enjoyable in so many ways. There were those who wore their silver and white hair like elegant manes. Others had aged beyond recognition; still others we would surely know in another 50 years.

As the weekend ended Sunday morning over breakfast and a spiritual service with some brief historical and individual anecdotes, I began to feel the rumbling in the pit of my stomach again. Later, my 10 hour drive home would help get in touch with what I now call my “mortality mirror.”
Many of our conversations over the weekend began with: “Well, I’m not on the board.” This was the memorial board of those whom had passed on. We all humorously joked about the possibility that each of us could be next and therefore not here for our next reunion 5 years hence. However, as I listened to my classmates, and later to myself, I understood many to be glowingly happy; some others still looking in pain, some seemingly in a haze; some retired, others still working. Underneath, there seemed to be an “unrecognized knowing” that our lives were on the downside of the curve. Many will not be there come 5 years.

I wouldn’t fully realize the impact of the weekend until some days after arriving home. I began to feel a sense of loss and grief. What I came to know was that on my “backside of the curve,” I didn’t know how much time I had left and I didn’t want to live it out without experiencing some of the glowing joy I had seen on a few of my classmate’s faces. I had written about it over the years, knowing it only from brief glimpses of my own experiences and the writings of others. I wanted more of what they had.

Poignant questions taunted me: What is my purpose now? What do I want now? What will make me happy? What do I have left to do? How much time have I left? Am I really happy now?”
I wanted to hear more from my classmates to enable me to put their stories into some context along with how they answered these questions. In total, I wanted more for my life. I stopped occasionally to wonder how some of them answered these questions.

Ultimately, I had a reunion with my Self. I have come more fully to realize my limited time here on terra firma. The rumbling in my crucible is that of change and challenge once again. It is time to get moving, not of retiring and reclining. To stop and consider the end is really stopping. To consider living is going on living.

As a result of my encounter I have decided to create this blog to enable others to share their thoughts about how they find value during their latter years as they age.

I am also planning to take a 9-12 month nationwide tour on a motorcycle to create awareness about what life we have left. During this tour I will interview seniors about their lives and how they find value in later years. For me, I want to fill as much of my life as possible living with joy and fulfillment no matter my age. I am also going to write more articles and focus on challenging more seniors to live more on the edge than “on the board!"

If you are a senior, how do you find value in your life? How do you find vibrancy? What keeps you going?
Reed Daugherity