Becoming Elders
13/06/13 05:30
My parents weren’t the oldest of their siblings and I have always had lots of cousins on both sides of my family. We had seven children in our family and there were plenty of children in the families of my parents’ siblings. When we got together as a family, we were among the youngest bunch of children, with plenty of older cousins.
Susan’s father, on the other hand, was the older of only two children in his family. He had a few cousins and even a few double cousins. I think that is the right term for the children of sibling pairs that marry. He had one aunt who never had children who remained close to his family throughout his life. His mother lived to be 100 years old and his father to 92, so I got to know his parents quite well. His sister had two children who were younger than Keith’s daughters, so I have known those folks since they were kids.
Time passes and families change. Susan’s dad was retired before his parents passed away, but one by one the family funerals occurred and the generation passed. Keith became the oldest of his line of the family. Then, a couple of years ago, he too came to the end of his life. Susan and I both lost our remaining parent within a few months of each other. We found out that the passing of generations involves some important responsibilities and one of those responsibilities is sifting and sorting through the possessions of our elders.
Today we head back to North Dakota, the place where her father was born and raised, for the funeral of his younger sister. She was the last of the siblings of our parents. The generations have now passed once again. Somehow, though we didn’t notice it happening, we have become elders. In the case of her father’s side of the family, Susan has now become the matriarch: the oldest of the remaining cousins. Since all of those cousins are living it isn’t a mark of longevity, simply the product of birth order. Still it seems like a significant moment in family history.
There are things that you imagine when you are younger. This isn’t one of them. I have had a sense that one is never the “right” age. For the first few years of life you are “too young” for so many things. I can remember being told that I was too young for a two wheeled bicycle, too young to go down to the river by myself, too young to start hunting, too young to drive a car, too young to fly an airplane, too young to move out of the house, too young to drink alcohol. And all of those dates passed within what now seems like a very short amount of time. In the early years of my career I was too young for a few of the jobs in the church. Now, I am aware that there are a few things for which I am “too old.” I don’t ever remember being just the right age. We went from being the kids in the family to being the elders without any time in between, or so it seems.
But here we are. We have become custodians of the memories. We also seem to be custodians of the photographs and quite a bit of the family heirlooms. There isn’t much. We’re not a family that hangs on to too many items, but there are a couple of pieces of furniture and two clocks that come from that side of Susan’s family that now live in our house. One of the clocks had an honored place in the kitchen of Susan’s grandparents and I remember her grandmother speaking of how her father had brought it to her childhood home on horseback. That clock is now in our living room, somewhat less reliable than it once was, but still capable of chiming the hour when it has been properly cleaned and adjusted.
The photographs could use a bit more organization. Throughout the generations there have been a few who created albums and organized the pictures. But there have also been a lot of photographs that were simply passed from one generation to the next in boxes. I have begun the process of scanning and organizing some of the photos, but at the rate at which I am going, there will only be a small number that are transferred to that media. And organizing digital photographs is almost as daunting a task as organizing printed photographs.
Despite the organizational challenges, we are fortunate to have come from families where there were some photographers. We have good records of preceding generations. There are plenty of folks who do not have their heritage recorded in such a complete fashion. At times like this, when we are drawn together and invited to think back, it is good to have all of the old photos to remind us of the people and the times that brought us to this moment.
I suppose that one of the roles that is appropriately given to elders is the task of keeper of the stories and along with the stories in our time are the photographs, for they tell the stories of our people in ways that ought to be preserved for future generations. It falls to us not only to keep those stories and photographs, but also to find ways to share them. It seems to be a suitable role for an elder.
But there is one change that comes with this funeral of which we are now aware. As the cousins clean out the apartment, it is the last home of a member of the family located in the old hometown. Everyone has moved away and there will no longer be any home to visit when we go back to that town. Once there was a farm and multiple houses. Now those things are either gone or the dwelling place of other families and other stories.
Time passes. And when you become an elder, you become aware of how quickly it goes. But we’ve got a lot of sorting and organizing to do before we pass these treasures to the next generation.
Time passes and families change. Susan’s dad was retired before his parents passed away, but one by one the family funerals occurred and the generation passed. Keith became the oldest of his line of the family. Then, a couple of years ago, he too came to the end of his life. Susan and I both lost our remaining parent within a few months of each other. We found out that the passing of generations involves some important responsibilities and one of those responsibilities is sifting and sorting through the possessions of our elders.
Today we head back to North Dakota, the place where her father was born and raised, for the funeral of his younger sister. She was the last of the siblings of our parents. The generations have now passed once again. Somehow, though we didn’t notice it happening, we have become elders. In the case of her father’s side of the family, Susan has now become the matriarch: the oldest of the remaining cousins. Since all of those cousins are living it isn’t a mark of longevity, simply the product of birth order. Still it seems like a significant moment in family history.
There are things that you imagine when you are younger. This isn’t one of them. I have had a sense that one is never the “right” age. For the first few years of life you are “too young” for so many things. I can remember being told that I was too young for a two wheeled bicycle, too young to go down to the river by myself, too young to start hunting, too young to drive a car, too young to fly an airplane, too young to move out of the house, too young to drink alcohol. And all of those dates passed within what now seems like a very short amount of time. In the early years of my career I was too young for a few of the jobs in the church. Now, I am aware that there are a few things for which I am “too old.” I don’t ever remember being just the right age. We went from being the kids in the family to being the elders without any time in between, or so it seems.
The photographs could use a bit more organization. Throughout the generations there have been a few who created albums and organized the pictures. But there have also been a lot of photographs that were simply passed from one generation to the next in boxes. I have begun the process of scanning and organizing some of the photos, but at the rate at which I am going, there will only be a small number that are transferred to that media. And organizing digital photographs is almost as daunting a task as organizing printed photographs.
I suppose that one of the roles that is appropriately given to elders is the task of keeper of the stories and along with the stories in our time are the photographs, for they tell the stories of our people in ways that ought to be preserved for future generations. It falls to us not only to keep those stories and photographs, but also to find ways to share them. It seems to be a suitable role for an elder.
But there is one change that comes with this funeral of which we are now aware. As the cousins clean out the apartment, it is the last home of a member of the family located in the old hometown. Everyone has moved away and there will no longer be any home to visit when we go back to that town. Once there was a farm and multiple houses. Now those things are either gone or the dwelling place of other families and other stories.
Time passes. And when you become an elder, you become aware of how quickly it goes. But we’ve got a lot of sorting and organizing to do before we pass these treasures to the next generation.