I think maybe I am getting old. In recent weeks I have had a
hankering to make contact with some old friends. I followed through on those
yearnings. I called an old friend I had not spoken with in a few years. He told
me the sad news of his oldest son being killed in an automobile accident. In
the course of that week I spoke with another old friend and learned some of the
stresses of his life. It is late in the year and I had some vacation time I
needed to take. So this last week I drove to Missouri to see an old friend. We
had an enjoyable visit. But he has a few health problems that concern me
and I know they trouble him. I move on and go see my mother and father in-law.
I enjoyed the evening listening to their stories. They don't have any sons but
since I married one of their daughters they claim me and I am proud of their
claim. On the way home I meditate on my visits and I have a fresh reality that
getting old has some challenges. And I think maybe I am getting old.
I get home and sleep in my bed one night and then take off in
the in the other direction to Kentucky. My purpose is to attend a funeral
visitation for the father of a pastor friend of mine. My friend is not as old
as I am but I know from experience that losing your father will make you feel
old. I continue on my journey and go spend the night with my aunt. We set up
and talk past midnight and I am pretty sure that is past her bedtime. But I
don't want to miss the opportunity share some old memories. Because, I think
maybe I am getting old. Next morning I drive over to the town where I grew up.
I go to the cemetery to visit the graves of my father and mother. I inspect the
flowers resting on top of their stone and I surmise that they are in good
enough shape that they don't need to be replaced just yet. I had made
arrangements to see another old friend. His son is about the same age as me and
I had spent a lot of time at his house when I was growing up, particularly on
Sunday afternoons after church. We have a lot of church stories to tell and a
lot of people to memorialize. I discover that this old friend and I have more
friends in common that are dead than are alive. I think maybe I am getting
old.
I get home and I read an obituary in the Illinois Baptist. A pastor
friend with whom I have enjoyed many moments of sweet fellowship has lost his
wife of 52 years. I call my friend and he reminisces about her life and her
home going. She had been suffering from cancer and her death is bittersweet. I
think my friend feels old and I think maybe I am getting old.
So I am absorbing my recent experiences with old friends. It
causes me to understand that I don't want to spend much time in puny arguments.
Life is short and there is simply too many difficulties and too much sorrow to
waste energy squabbling. I would rather give my life to loving one another and
rejoicing in the love of others. That is my opinion. But maybe I am just
getting old.
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