A friend, widowed some years back, wrote me in response to an earlier About Aging in which I noted the space that empties when a loved one dies. She told me about her recent doings, giving me a palpable sense of what her life has become since her husband died. It got me to thinking about renewal, the process by which we People of a Certain Age cope with loss and refashion our lives to continue on.
In the movie, The Visitor, Walter is a university professor whose wife has died. We first see him as a pinched pretender, inflexible toward others, always claiming to be busy with research for his latest book, harried by the burden of teaching his one class per semester, the same one he has taught for years.
The circumstances of the movie place Walter in the company of two illegal immigrants in New York City, a couple. The man is from Syria, the woman from West Africa. The man came to the U.S. with his family many years ago. She came more recently. Both are productive members of society.
The man plays the drums. Walter is attracted to the beat, and the man tutors Walter who begins to lose himself in drumming. The man invites Walter to an outside jam session of drummers in Washington Square. On the way home, they are confronted by subway police who take the man into custody for an erroneously-perceived misdemeanor.
Quickly, the man’s illegal status is discovered, and he is scheduled for deportation. Helping the man becomes Walter’s obsession; he feels responsible because the man got arrested doing Walter a kindness.
Rent the movie from Netflix to see the rest of the story. The important outcome is that Walter discovers a new purpose for living.
Renewal, as described by John Gardner in his book by that title, is not revision. Renewal does not erase the past. Rather, renewal is about a new cycle of life. It is not unique to any age or stage of life. Renewal is, one hopes, an on-going process, a characteristic of a life well-lived.
Mom’s life provided a vivid example of renewal. She, too, experienced the loss of her husband, after 56 years of marriage. Her story of renewal began with her work for her church as a Stephen Minister. These lay people receive training and then offer themselves to others in need.
For Mom, her “others” were also widows, coming to grips with their empty spaces. The minister’s widow became a minster herself.
Then followed another renewal. This one was a double. Chad, her friend from junior high school days 70 years before, contacted her. Chad’s wife of 56 years had died a month after Dad, creating another empty space.
That contact began a ten-year relationship, nine years as a married couple. Both Chad and Mom thrived in their time together, breathing new vitality into each other’s lives.
Renewal came for another good friend in the form of a kolea (golden plover for my mainland friends) that flew into her imagination and rekindled spark in her life. To tell stories of Hawaiian history through tales about the kolea has lifted her to places she did not expect to be.
In the musical, “Les Miz,” a young man laments “empty chairs at empty tables” as he mourns the loss of friends who died in acts of revolution. What those of us familiar with the story know is that, though those tables and chairs might have emptied, the young man’s life was about to change significantly.
Death is not the only reason spaces empty. You People of a Certain Age who are retired, like Judy and me, know that the transition from active employment and integral roles in our respective enterprises to a time unencumbered by anything other than what you might think to do in a day creates empty spaces. If your work included periodic affirmations and accolades directed at you for your endeavors, adjusting to the absence of such affirmation can take some time.
Judy and I never had children of our own. But I can imagine that the “empty nest” our parenting friends have experienced can feel a lot like empty space.
Fortunately, renewal is an equal opportunity unbounded by time. Walter found his in a surprising way and after a significant period of emptiness. It was more than a year after Dad died before Mom began her journey to renewal through her Stephen Ministry work. It took a while for the kolea to find my friend.
Those with newly emptied spaces might not yet be ready to embrace renewal.
There is no right time or way to renewal. Nor is there any limit to the space available to us in our lives. Empty spaces do not necessarily need to be filled because new spaces emerge. Replacements are not required: new purpose arises. On-going relationships persist and new ones form. All we need do is to be open to the possibilities.
Daniel E. White
September 16, 2019