Respect the old!! Guess what? You'll be old soon!

 One of the more difficult aspects of my life is admitting to the fact that I’m a senior! As I visited with many seniors over the last few months with setting up for our recent painting blitz, it struck me how too often the ‘old’ are literally left alone and often forgotten. I have a key neighborhood leader in Miss Martha, who recently turned 90. She’s so funny, alive and will often remind me that 63 isn’t old and that I should call her MAMMA. She reprimanded me a few weeks ago when I ended up laughing during our phone conversation. I tried to make it sound as if I was laughing with her and not at her. She helped me see that even really old people have feelings and demand respect and need genuine care!

During the recent painting blitz where we painted six houses of grandmas and grandpas I was reminded that I shouldn’t be too quick to react to someone that I have labeled as old and crotchety! My initial meeting with grandpa Willie was through ‘Mamma’ and it was a very cordial ‘hook up’. It wasn’t until I attempted to meet before our painting blitz that my ‘ire’ got raised because Willie started to moan and groan about a few things. I reminded myself that it was a privilege to be able to connect a diverse group of people with these seniors who in the end be blessed and thankful for their house being painted.

The issue at hand was the color of the paint. I had reassured Willie that the color was similar to what he already had with the caveat being that his house was in horrible shape so anything would be better than what it was. I attempted to meet him on a couple of times before our blitz with no success. The morning of the blitz he was up early and I had already arranged for a friend, a guy, to help with the project because the supervisor was a gal youth leader. My fear was that Willie might be weird. BOY, was I WRONG about Willie! As we were prepping his house for the group of 30 that would transform it he received a call from a mutual friend. Once Willie realized who I was, a neighborhood leader and friend of ‘wacky Wanda’, he became my bestie.

As I returned to see the finished paint job I was so jazzed to see that Willie had been part of the project and was Mr. Nice guy and very social to the group. Yikes! I had mislabeled Willie as an old grumpy guy when he was a very gentile guy with a big HEART! I was thrilled to see my key leader, Sean, praying for Willie as the group finished. It struck me as I got to know the real Willie that day how easy it would have been for me to casually allow Willie to be just a name on a list. As the group left I was humbled to realize that Willie had serious health challenges and had been at the ER the day we were supposed to meet.

I confess to the fact that too often my ego and male hormone ‘thing’ rules the way I treat people, even my son and that it’s time to admit that I’m not as strong as I have been, I definitely can’t run a marathon and yes soon I will need help. OUCH! This is so difficult to admit.

The greatest joy I have received, next to being a grandpa is being genuine friends with many seniors! It’s been the Bernie’s, Maddy’s, Ladde’s and Miss Martha’s who have taught me that life can been good even at 90 with a little help from your friends!