I often say that I write this blog primarily for my own benefit, to work out what I think about things. If others happen to find what I write of use, that's an advantage, but the fact is that I work out what I think and feel by writing about the issues of the day.
My biggest issue of this day is a personal one. The woman who one of my brothers describes as our stepmother, which is a term I never felt inclined to use, died over the weekend. Jean had outlived my father by five years, and reached a good age. She had suffered two significant strokes, and as can be the case, her release from suffering means there is no real cause for grieving.
My mother died more than 40 years ago. My father remarried about a decade later. Jean was a part of my life for more than thirty years but I admit I never had a close relationship with her. I suspect there was much that we did not have in common. Politics was a subject I think wisely avoided, for example.
However, I suspect that no death of someone in a family happens without reflection being demanded. I realise now that I got on with Jean because my father loved her, and that was sufficient reason. I also had absolutely no doubt about his devotion. She made him happy. That was a good thing.
Today, though, I might still need time to reflect on the relationships that were impacted by losing my mother whilst relatively young, by my father remarrying and what that meant for the idea of our family. I thought all those issues were long gone. Perhaps they are. But somehow they seem recalling right now.
Most of all though, Jean's death represents the last of the generation that preceded me across the extended family with whom I am still in touch. That is a poignant moment.
There is another thing to mention to it in that case. Not long after I first got to know Jean, when she was probably still in her late 50s, and therefore younger than I am now, she was determined to tell me that one day I would need to slow down, and that aches, pains, and physical deterioration would demand that I live my life more sedately than I did in my thirties. What is is more, she thought I should take seriously those activities to which she and my father seemed dedicated through much of their relationship, from cruising onwards.
I assured her all those years ago that I could never see that happening. I cannot still. I admit, when doing so, that I enjoy good fortune because, so far, I suffer from no chronic conditions, and I am aware of how lucky I am to be able to say that.
I suspect, based on her comments, that Jean thought I was afflicted with drive and determination. I would, of course, disagree. I have never been interested in having an old age of the sort that she and my father enjoyed, which appeared to be mainly dedicated to activities designed to use up their time without ever achieving very much. That, quite literally, seems like a waste of time to me.
But that has left me asking a question, just a month before I officially become an old age pensioner, as to just what the rest of this life is about as far as I am concerned, for however long it lasts. Jean had a clear and certain vision for me. It's a strange thing to say, but it was the thing I knew best about her.
What I need to reflect on is what my own very different version of that vision is.
As I noted above, no death can pass without reflection. Jean's will make me think, although not in ways she might have predicted.
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Condolences on your loss. Life is short. As the Jewish saying goes, may her memory be a blessing.
(Although having watched Fiddler on the Roof yesterday – a masterpiece of scheduling, combining Russian authoritarianism and antisemitism but also hope and community in a neat package – one may occasionally wish to have fewer blessings).
Thanks
Commiserations Richard – in your perfectly understandably somewhat conflicted state of mind.
Death of friends, contemporaries,- family or not always prompts such reflections.
I could write whole tomes about the process of growing up learning to understand what our parents were really about – sort of in love with one and sort of hating the other. Reflections on these things keep on recurring throughout life – when prompted by other deaths etc etc
So agree that being ‘retired’ doesn’t make sense – must keep trying to do things that matter.
So, hope your vision of your future becomes clearer as you reflect.
You are certainly doing good on here.
Thanks, Andrew
I’m sorry to hear of your loss Richard.
I am only a few months younger than you and have many similar reflections relating to aging (and death) – although I wouldn’t be so good articulating my thoughts as you. Reflecting is part of the process of arriving at conclusions so keep on reflecting! You will work out the right answers for yourself. And then you will need to re-adjust as circumstances change as they always do.
I hope your blog continues to be part of your future. In a sense your blog is a near endless stream of reflections which in turn cause others to reflect, and think. That is no bad thing! You are achieving a lot – the large number of people who follow you is testament to that.
Thanks
After 18 nyears I have no plan to give this blog up
Thank you for sharing Richard.Please accept my heartfelt condolences for your loss. Much of what you have written resonates with me. I attended the life celebration of a very close friend’s Mum on Friday. I have know her since my early teens. She died age 93. It is the case that losses stir up old losses as this one did for me. My Mum died in 2029 at age 94.
Thanks Werner, and for your own story
Only ten years ago, Richard, I’d have said the same as you. I would never slow down.
But, as my best friend says, tempus don’t half fuge it.
I have always been a hands on classic car enthusiast, for a large part of my life running a restoration business. In 2013 I undertook the recommissioning of a Lancia 2000 sedan, after it had been standing for 10 years, which involved dismantling and reassembling the front suspension which is no mean task with its transverse leaf spring and massive wheel bearings. This I did in less than a month.
Back then I was, like you, a keen walker living as I do close to the Jurassic Coast with its path rising in some places from sea level to 500 ft. I’d maybe walk 20 miles on a weekend.
Now in my 81st year, I struggle to top up the oil and check the tyre pressures. I even took the car to the garage to get a headlamp bulb fitted. And it is as much as I can do to walk to Waitrose which is exactly 1 km away.
I am 9 months older than Joe Biden yet it would be impossible for me to do his job even if I had the intellectual capacity. (Some say he doesn’t).
However, I once had a customer who was 96 and he bought from me a Delta Turbo and was still a professor at Oxford University. Maybe my (very) mispent youth is catchingup on me?
So best of luck to you, Richard, I hope you fare the same as that gentleman rather than me.
Thanks
I am aware that a lot of this is down to luck
The past can cast a long shadow.
I spent years helping people review their lives. How we came to be the way we are. In almost every case, I think it lead to more self acceptance. The relationship we have with ourselves is the most important one we ever have. If it is a good we one we stand much better chance of happiness and being able to see the world more clearly and be more useful and effective within in.
I used to say to my clients that having meaning and purpose in life enables us to better endure the things that life throws at us -such as old age. I am finding out at first hand now !
We all need to process loss , mainly by reflecting on it and observe ourselves as it were but compassionately. You might be surprised by the number of people, including avowed Christians, who love their neighbour and forget their second Great Commandment ends -‘as yourself.’
The Buddhists have a concept of ‘not grasping’ -trying to hold onto things. The extreme example is the partner who checks the other’s phone to see who he or she is talking to. That is possessiveness. The example at the other end of the spectrum I sometimes used to quote is when my five year old granddaughter brought me a book with a picture of the Pyramids. She asked me about them. I told her and she said with all the seriousness of a five year old, ‘that was very interesting, Grandad.’
One has to be open to it but it was a delightful experience but not one that can be ‘bottled’. A memory, yes, but experienced in the moment. And the more of them we can see, the more seem to occur. That is, I feel, what Maslow meant in his hierarchy of needs by his strange term ‘self actualisation.’ But, of course, it is never finally achieved. We are all works in progress. And work is only part of that.
My father left when I was five and never spoken about. I now realise my mother was emotionally not well and my only brother -12 years older-was in the Navy. At the time it was just how things were. It was only later I could see the effects.
I have the impression you have good relationships, a supportive family and friends as well as a mission in which you have had success. You are doing the right thing IMHO by acknowledging the loss of what you didn’t have -the relationship with your mother-but there will be some pleasure in the memories too and the pain we can live with.
Thanks, Ian. Appreciated.
I think our vulnerability helps make us who we are if we can acknowledge and addressw it.
I have realised I have som eneed to do that.
(I haven’t felt able to respond you your postings before but read them regularly – so not sure what “website” means – guessing that it’s the name that will appear..?)
Sending my condolences, as one also in this period of reflection after my husband’s recent death.
” ….mainly dedicated to activities designed to use up their time without ever achieving very much. That, quite literally, seems like a waste of time to me.” I couldn’t agree more, but recognise also that as we (I, and probably even you) become older and more infirm, options narrow.
I recommend “33 Meditations on Death” by David Jarrett as a reminder to live life purposefully, and know when to call a halt; and if you like thoughtful black humour, “Shall we stay or shall we go”, by Lionel Shriver.
I wish you well.
Thank you, Mayonne
And I am sorry to hear of your less.
Go well.
At 58 I am saying the long cheerio to youth and the now quickening hello to old age.
My present mindset is to give up work and get away from all of this and find some peace and quiet – space to think and breathe. I’d like to shut the world out really. Fat chance.
OTOH
All I have is my earning power to support my children through Uni and help them to have what might be some of the best days of their lives the way things are going and at some time impart what wisdom (if any) I have gained.
My work genuinely helps people so I might as well stick around and finish all my development schemes and pass my skills to the younger people who work with me.
And when my time comes, I hope that is quick – no lingering please. And also that up to that point, that I knew what was going on for good or ill, that I was not living a lie but in truth.
‘Time is the revelator’ as a Gillian Walsh sang.
That’s about it really.
Its a funny business growing old, when I was a child there were WW1 veterans who were still active, and WW2 ones were all over the place.
Now I keep on getting ‘John, I wasnt born then’ when I mention things like the Fall of the Berlin Wall, Thatchers Resignation etc
Agreed
Same. I easily recall a great uncle who fought in WW1 tranches. Now WW2 veterans are rare.
Well, just to show how incredibly old I am, never mind uncles, my father was an anti-aircraft gunner with the Royal Artillery in the first world war! He rose to the rank of Captain and got a medal as a result of being wounded in Italy.
Wow
My grandfather was in WW1
My dad was 40 when I was born. And he died at 67, so I’ve done a bit better than that. Though I didn’t fight in any wars and just missed National Service by a year.
Sorry for your loss Richard. I believe we make choices about how to spend our later years, post- employment or otherwise – if we are lucky enough to be alive and well. Since I finished paid work I love the sense of freedom to choose how to spend my time. Self-discipline is far from perfect but hopefully what I do as a quiet activist / volunteer is useful. I could not devote all my time to personal pursuits. Some people can and I do not envy their choice. Please know that what you do lights the way for many Richard and don’t doubt the value of your choice. Just appreciate the difference and please keep going as long as spirit and flesh are willing. Thanks.
Thanks
I appreciate your comment
My reflections, not just over the last days, but more broadly as I approach an entirely artificial point in my life that has, nonetheless, big personal significance because of the social constructs we attach to it, are interesting and unexpected, at least to me. That is why I am writing about and sharing them.
Commiserations on your loss, Richard, and thanks for your thoughts on that and on slowing down/getting old. As it turns out we have something else in common (as well as our association with Ipswich) as my mother also died when I was young – nine to be precise – and then me, my sister and father lived as a nicely functioning family until I was 15 when he met and then married another women (complete with her three children). The rest is a long and painful history which I shan’t bore anyone with except to say that neither me or my sister ever considered our father’s new wife our stepmother so I understand what you mean.
Anyway, after your period of reflection I can see that you’re back with all guns blazing today with your blog on the dreadful Badenoch 🙂
Thanks Ivan
My wife teased me this morning, suggesting that 24 hours appears to be enough emoting time for me. Maybe, and maybe not. But I can’t reflect forever without requiring action.
Richard, my condolences too.
I’m retired now but I can assure you that memories of loved ones who have died, reflections on them, others and indeed thoughts on their time is all part of coping and moving on. My Mum’s dad went across to France with the BEF in 1914. He survived and then came my Mum a few years later. He was alive when I was a small boy. I can still recall with fondness some of our conversations. Hopefully in time you can do the same.
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Appreciated.
Do not dare give up commentating. you are valuable as is Private Eye . Most of our press is …t. With age we have to control our physical and mental decline. Physical : keep moving, lifting weight and yoga etc. As you do keep thinking. \Otherwise, retirement is decay.E. age 84
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I take exercise seriously – stretching and walking seriously
Go well