Another woman said, "What frustrates me the most is that I am afraid I'm not going to get everything done that I need to do--before I'm gone.  I don't want to leave a bunch of stuff for my family to have to deal with like my mom and dad left me.  I doubt my folks knew how difficult it would be."

"And the things in my home that I love, nobody in my family wants. What I thought was a treasure, my children think is junk.  I can't figure out what to throw out and what to keep.  The things that I value the very most, are things that belonged to my mother, my aunts, my grandmothers--nothing that is worth much, but they bring back memories for me.  All those people, and most of my friends--everybody I grew up with--are gone now.  And my children don't remember those things--they don't have those memories.  It makes me sad.  So I end up not doing anything."

"And as long as I'm talking about memories, they are one of the most precious things I have--now that I am this age.  Sometimes my children tell me that I live in the past--like that is a bad thing to do.  But "the past" is what I have left now.  And memories of my parents, my husband, or things that I have experienced, places that I have gone give me a lot of joy."

"Let's face it, as older women, as widows, the future doesn't hold a lot.  You aren't going to get a job, or go to school, or have children.  You aren't going to do much of anything that takes physical strength--or that takes very much time to do--you can't stay at 'doing' for long because you wear out."

"The worst thing that I am afraid I am not going to get done is paperwork.  I have fifty years of paper that I am afraid to throw away.  Nobody keeps paper anymore--everything is on their phones or computers--which I don't know how to do.  And I don't know which papers I have that are important.  What I should toss.  What I should keep.  So I just put it all in boxes.  Which is upsetting because that's what my parents did.  And I still have unopened boxes of their paperwork that I need to go through.  I ought to invite everyone over, build a fire with all that paper.  We could roast wieners."

I couldn't help thinking that I had a ton of paper that I could add to the bonfire.  It would be a relief.

Actually, asking this "question" I asked last Sunday took more time than I thought it would.  Everyone wanted to talk about this subject--the frustrations of getting old.  So we did.  One after another they chimed in.

"I'm frustrated that I can't do the things that I used to enjoy doing so much," the third woman said.  Part of it is because I get tired quicker.  Part of it is that I can't physically do what I used to do.  And part of it is because my kids don't want me to.  They are afraid I'll get hurt.  Or get lost.  Or break down on the road.  Or someone will rob me."

"They say things like, 'Wait until one of us can go with you.'  But they are busy.  And finding a time to do something when they can do it never seems to happen."

I had to agree with her.  I have been trying to find a time to go see Ken's sister when one of my kids could go with me--because they don't want me to go alone.  But they are all so busy.  It's only four hours away.  I could drive it.  It wouldn't be a problem for me, but they worry.  And if something should go wrong on the road, I'd never hear the end of it, so I keep hesitating.  And even if they would take me, I would feel like I am imposing on their time.  I liked it much better when I just did what I wanted to do.  I didn't have to "report in."  I understand why they worry, but it is such an inconvenience not having complete freedom anymore.

The lady continued, "I used to travel.  And I really miss it.  But the people that I used to go with are in worse shape than I am and they can't go anymore.  At this age, it's hard to make new friends that like to do the same things that you do.  And are capable of doing them."  The lady sitting next to her said, "I'm going to Rome in three weeks with my son.  I hope I don't give him any problems."

I couldn't help but tell her that she was blessed that her son wanted her to go with him.  My daughter Becky keeps trying to get me to go on a cruise.  But I hesitate.  That's part of the problem.  You don't know if you will be able to do it.  You doubt yourself.

I decided to do something different in my Bible Class Sunday.  I asked a simple question--and interestingly enough, got the most enthusiastic discussion that I have had in two years.  Perhaps their answers to the question will help you understand what older people in your family are experiencing.  Maybe inspire you to change how you interact with them?  I asked, "What has been the most difficult part of growing old for you to deal with?"  I don't know what I was expecting, but the answers were enlightening.  And none of them said it was "dying."

The first answer was, "It's not the things that I have forgotten that bothers me, but the assumption that--because I am  older--I don't remember anything at all.  Like my age is some sort of mental disease. They say things like, 'You don't know what you are talking about.'  Or, 'That's not what happened.'  Or, 'You've got that wrong.'"  They correct me over trivia.  They seem to enjoy correcting me over small details.  They talk to me like I am one of their children."

"The hard part is that when they get something wrong, they don't listen what I have to say.  As a result, I end up not being a part of the conversation.  Assumption: the older person has lost their memory.  There is nothing drastically wrong with my memory.  I remember most things.  Sometimes it takes me longer to get to it--thus, since I am slow--I must be mentally deficient.  It isolates you."

Everyone in class said that this was one of the most frustrating things that they experience. They agreed that their memory is not as good it used to be, but all of them felt excluded from conversation.  And that the wisdom they have accumulated through the years has been discounted.  Later, I called my friend Carolyn to get her opinion and told her what the women had said.  I asked her what she thought.  She said, "So true!!  They are rude.  And they correct you in a patronizing manner.  That didn't happen when you missed a detail back when you were younger."

Perhaps the most familiar scripture to us is, Deut. 5:16, "Honor your father and mother, (and your elders)...that your days may be prolonged...that it may go well with you..."  Be patient with older people.  You are setting an example for how your own children may treat you.

I think I am on an anti-rebellion kick.  I'm sick of senseless rebellion.  It has become entertainment for some groups of people.  People travel from state to state to get in on the action.  One day, two, and then on to the next event.  I can't help but wonder if these people have jobs, or just have too much empty time on their hands. Whatever their goals, their method isn't working.

I am definitely not against demonstrations if they are orderly and have a lasting purpose.  I would love to see a demonstration against child abuse.  Or drunk driving.  Or a dozen other things.

But people can't seem to get into those kinds of things.  They want to demonstrate because "Somebody done somebody wrong."  And after the demonstration, nothing changes.  Except that a number of people who have nothing to do with what is going on lose property--as demonstrators wreck buildings, cars, streetlights, loot and destroy stuff.

Mohandas Gandhi is remembered as one of the greatest protesters of all time.  (Martin Luther King used his principles for the protest march on D.C.)   In 1930, Gandhi led the Salt March in a peaceful protest  of Britain's oppression of India.  60,000 people were arrested.  Where are you going to jail that many people?  Impossible.  Gandhi won.  India gained her independence.   When he died in 1948, the entire world mourned.  I was ten years old at the time.  I remember.

You can't rule a people when most of them disagree with the rules.  Unless you kill all the protesters. Which is happening in the middle East today.  Thank God we live in America.  But we have become too tolerant of silliness, stupidity, vulgarity and violence in the name of free speech.

Where are the great leaders like MLK and Gandhi when we need them?  Where are the statesmen of yesteryear?  I think we are ready to follow someone who has a great vision.  I just hope it is not the anti-Christ.  I wonder if we would even recognize the anti-Christ.  God says most of the world won't.

Getting behind a real cause takes a lot of time.  For some causes, it takes a lifetime.  Find one.

Power is always granted from the bottom up.  You can make a law.  You can make a rule.  But to get someone to follow the rule or the law, they have to decide to do it.  They have to grant you the authority over them.  The authority to make the law.

So we understand that rebellion is refusal to grant authority to the governing powers.  And crime is actually following through with that rebellion and doing the opposite of the law.

There are two possibilities for committing a crime.  You get caught.  Or you don't.  If you get caught, there is punishment.  Consequences.  If you don't get caught, it gives you an inner confidence to commit the crime again.  And again.  But eventually, you will probably be caught.  And pay a price.

However, there are times to rebel.  Some laws are made without serious thought as to what the effect on people will be.  We are blessed here in America that we can rebel through protest.  The greater the number of protesters, the greater the probability that the law will be reversed.

But breaking the law is much more serious.  When groups break a law, it creates chaos.   Rioting serves no purpose.  Property loss is inflicted on people who did nothing wrong.

It seems to me that we have reached the "riot" stage in the world.  In Romans 13:1-2, God said, "All of you must obey those who rule over you.  There are no authorities except the ones God has chosen.  So whoever opposes the authorities opposes leaders whom God has appointed..."

I think he was talking about Israeli leaders--some of which were evil.  The part that is hard for us is to rebel in an effective way when our leaders lead us down a primrose path.  We need to rebel in unison, in a manner that leads to peace.  Not by screaming, busting windows and setting things on fire.

We should love peace.  And work toward changes that benefit us.  It takes time.  Rebellion?  Yes.  Crime?  No.

Ken never said "No" to me.  Whatever I wanted, however I wanted to do something, that's what happened.  He truly wanted me to be free to do whatever needed to be done however I wanted to do it.  Like I told you yesterday, he wanted a wife who could manage whatever came along--since he was gone so much.  He wasn't looking for a wimp.  And he didn't marry one.

So when he finally said "No" to me, it was a shock.  We had been married ten years and he had never questioned how I did the things that I did, or the decisions I made for the family.  He felt that whoever was doing the job got to decide how it was done.  But he was getting ready to deploy to Viet Nam.  He knew what war was.  He had flown over a hundred missions in Korea, and been hit 7 times in the first 25 missions--before they transitioned to jets.  He didn't have any illusions.

"I'm going to go to Olatha, Kansas when you deploy," I told him.  "They have a base there with a lot of empty housing.  Most of the wives I know are going there while their husbands are gone.  I'll have support.  Everyone will be going through the same thing I am.  The schools are good, and the kids will already have friends they know in the same boat they are in."  It wasn't a question, I was just telling Ken what I planned to do when he left.

"No," he said.  "That's not going to happen."  I did a double take.  I wasn't sure I heard him right.  "No, you aren't going to Olatha.  You and the kids are going back to Pryor where your folks are."

 "But," I said, "I want to..."

"No. You aren't going to Olatha.  I'm going to have enough to worry about while I'm gone.  I want my family safe.  In Pryor.  Where your family is.  If something should happen to me, I want to know that you and my children are settled. We are going to buy a house there--where your mom and dad live."

I was so shocked that I said, "Okay."  I think that shocked him too.

From my blog yesterday, you can probably tell that I rather much have a mind of my own.  I'm pretty much going to do what I'm going to do.  In my defense, Ken knew that when he married me.  He was completely up front about it.  "I want a woman for my wife who can manage on her own.  Who can think things out and do what is best--because I will be gone most of the time."

He was right about that.  Some of the ground Marines got to take their families with them overseas and had 3 years tours.  But the aviators were always moving.  Almost every year--practicing air maneuvers, and carrier landings in all the great bodies of water worldwide.  If there was a carrier, or a base anywhere in the world, Marine aviators were going there.  Their families didn't.

He was overseas twice--both times for 13 month tours--during one six year period.  No phone calls.  No internet.  No visits.  Just letters.  And that didn't count all the deployments in between.  Two weeks.  Six weeks. Two months.  So I was in charge of everything in our lives most of the time.  Ken had been right.  He needed a woman who could manage on her own--me.  Did I like it?  I never thought about it.  (Some of the wives weren't bent that way and the divorce rate was high.)

So naming a baby what I wanted to name him was just one more thing in my mind.  In my defense, Ken thought it was really funny, and told the story to all his fighter-pilot friends every time there was a Marine party.  Which was embarrassing.  But he knew what he was getting when he married me.

Every time he came home, we would renegotiate the territory.  Once, when he got back from overseas, I handed him the checkbook and bank statements and said, "I'm pretty sick of this.  Why don't you do it for awhile."  But after two or three months, he said, "There's not enough money to cover everything."  I said, "I know.  It's called juggling."

"I don't juggle," he said.  "I fly airplanes.  So, I'll make the money.  And you spend it."  And that's how we did it.  It worked for us.  It probably wouldn't work for most families.  I don't think there are many men who could manage woman like me.  But he had what it took.  I adored him.