Several weeks ago I wrote a column about aging. The gist of it was, barring unexpected death, growing old and infirm is inevitable so you had better get used to the idea. That was the good news; the bad news was that I made no practical suggestions about how to continue the sense of optimism and hopefulness that marked our lives in earlier years. Even with suggestions for how to keep “the golden years” as manageable as possible, it sounded pretty bleak.
Fortunately, the past few days have provided an antidote, not for aging, but for the apathy that occupies it. It is the season of commencements and there has been no shortage of news coverage about them. They ranged from the truly remarkable to the semi-ridiculous.
In the latter category I was asked for the direction of tassel turning on the mortarboard caps; the class in question was “graduating” from Pre-K, golden gowns and all. In the former there were some amazing feats in graduating classes; college degrees for octogenarians, commencement recognition for severely handicapped young people who, despite their condition, had completed the work and received a standing ovation from their classmates.
There were also silent recognitions for those who for a variety of reasons had not lived to see graduation. For those of us coming into the homestretch it is a time for somber reflection about our commencement to something beyond life as we know it. Certainly that was the last thing on the mind of the graduating classes whose accomplishments were being celebrated.
In the case of those commencements held so many years ago, it can turn into a time of retrospection. Few can remember any of the speakers let along the words they intoned. Sitting in a coliseum as hundreds of graduates file across the stage, only one of whom has any loving significance for you, it can be helpful to think about the final graduation that each of us will face. For the vast majority of us that melancholy event will have no lasting impact beyond the immediate survivors and friends; even that will not survive their lifetimes.
These young graduates will have their chance to “change the world,” a phrase often chanted during the speeches but they will likely be no more remembered than will we. They, too, may one day look back and reflect on where the decades went and what did it all mean. I suspect they will have no better answers than we do, but nonetheless, we wish them luck.
To look back and wish that we would be remembered because of our accomplishments is a selfish and vain dream. Those who have shared our lives will carry with them the things that they recall made us important to them but beyond those few our time here will be not marked by many.
That’s why it is important, not to think about how we will be remembered but to have made a daily difference for those with whom we shared our time. Jennifer James wrote a book years ago, Success is the Quality of Your Journey. It’s not how or where you end up; it’s the trip that counts, not how got you there. That is a message for all graduates, whether they are leaving school or leaving the earth. Make a difference with our presence; even the aged can do that.
Having seen all the trappings of commencement laid out in grand style, and listening to the speeches of the valedictorians it does give one a sense of optimism about the future. Hope, as they say, springs eternal and perhaps this generation of graduates will do better than those of us who made those same walk generations ago.
Hayden Hollingsworth
