I walked down the corridor checking the
numbers posted on plastic plaques outside a never-ending line of doors. As I passed rooms I heard the sounds of
people cursing, people crying, TV’s broadcasting the news, and a handful of
persons visiting with family and friends.
I had been through these halls a number of times before to visit other
people, but today I was visiting someone new. As a young minister on staff at a local church, I shared the
rotation of hospital and nursing home visits with other ministers. Today, Ms. Brown was on my list.
I knew Ms. Brown’s grandchildren well. They were in the student ministry I led
at the church. However, I had not
met Ms. Brown. I understood she
had been sick for sometime. She
was frequently in and out of facilities like this one. When I saw her name on the list of
those to visit I wasn’t sure what to expect.
Finally, I arrived at the door. I knocked softly and inquired if it was
okay for me to enter. A small
voice welcomed me. When I walked
in there were machines whirring and dispensing data on small screens that were
unrecognizable to me. There were
tubes running to and fro around Ms. Brown. I introduced myself to the elderly lady before me. Immediately, her face lit up and she
began talking. Her sweet spirit
filled the time of our visit, which ended up being longer than normal. As I exited the room I was amazed how
someone in such a condition in the latter years of life could be so
kind-hearted.
Not every visit I have made to those in the
sunset of life has been as pleasant.
Many were filled with inner bitterness that had consumed their souls as
much as illness had consumed their body.
Others were engulfed in deep regret. They longed to right a relationship or re-do the events that
had long since transpired.
Still, there are some like Ms. Brown. Their lives have been full of love.
While they have not been perfect (none of us are) they live with few
regrets. They have chosen to pass
the days of their life with hope and joy even as those days are drawing to a
close. Psychologists and
sociologists have studied the aging brain for decades and drawn some incredible
conclusions. Many have come to the
same conclusion: the attitude you cultivate over the course of your life will
be magnified in your final years.
What this means for all of us is the kind of
person we choose to be today will ultimately be the kind of person we become
tomorrow. We would all like to
believe we are getting better with age.
Hopefully we are more wise and understanding as the years of life come and
go. However, our chosen outlook on
life today will greatly affect the person our grandchildren and great
grandchildren will become acquainted with. We cannot stop the aging and decay of our bodies. We can choose to stop the decay of our
attitudes, though. Who do you hope
to be in the sunset of life?