Imparted wisdom from elders

CHERRIL DOTY

“The secret of old age is having a lot of birthdays.”

The room echoed with laughter at the words of the 90-year-old. We

were at the University Club at Redlands University for the 70th

reunion of the Redlands High School Class of ’34. Seventeen members

of the class were in attendance. Some of the class members brought

spouses or significant others to this luncheon gathering, while

others were accompanied by the next generation as “chaperons.”

Luncheon choices were quickly devoured even as voices were raised in

genial nonstop conversation at a pitch all could hear.

I had come to the reunion with my mother and my sister with the

sense I might gain some wisdom from this. In my mother’s copy of the

black linen-covered yearbook, Makio 1934, I read the message from the

Senior Class written by their secretary, Wenonah Arnold. She closed

with the words, “We ... will look forward with zeal into the future.”

As I listened to these seventeen members of the class of 1934,

ranging in age from eighty-six to ninety, I thought that zeal --

along with all those birthdays -- was a large part of longevity. As

each class member told of his or her life I was struck by the passion

and enthusiasm with which the individuals approached every day.

These folks all seemed so vital, full of life and eager for its

experiences. There was Minnie, with her bright, eager smile, who had

traveled through most of the United States ... on a motorcycle! Dick,

who had signed my mother’s yearbook with the appendage “Doctor,” had

stayed focused and yet adaptive in that goal. After all, there was a

war and falling in love, getting married, and making a living in

between before the accomplishment of his dreams. Then, when he

retired, as he told the story, he was in Africa doing oral surgery

for the native tribes “to help out some missionaries.”

Travel led Bill and Margaret to the continent and Cambodia. It led

Leon to the Virgin Islands where he lived for a time. He was a sailor

whose ship sank off St. Thomas, whereupon he and his wife “simply”

swam to shore. Later, at age 80, while piloting his own airplane, he

crashed into the Tehachapi Mountains here in California. It was two

days without food and water before he was rescued. His back was

broken in four places. Leon seems to have an indomitable spirit, his

only sadness that he had recently lost his wife of 65 years.

Dorothy had lived for many years in Hawaii, returning to

retirement in Redlands where she remains very active and full of fond

memories. Peggy still has the “eyes of an angel” and a flair for

color, though she has just recently called a halt to golf due to

crippling arthritis in her hands. It doesn’t seem to slow her down

too much, though. My own mother -- “Dynamite!” the inscription

beneath her name in the yearbook -- has led her own full life,

teaching, traveling and raising four children. She doesn’t speak much

of the past. Does she have unfulfilled “dynamite” dreams still to

live?

Some of the guests were rather quiet about their own

accomplishments, seeming to want to share with us those of other

classmates not present. Still, they told wonderful stories of these

others that showed their interest and enthusiasm for each other. And

one man -- the 90-year-old of the quote about birthdays -- was

accompanied by his two daughters and their husbands. He told of all

the many jobs he had held over the years doing work with his hands.

In his retirement he has taken up making jewelry and he and his

family all displayed proof of his prowess at this “new” skill.

There was talk around the room of the upcoming elections, but

without any rancor. There was mutual sadness in speaking of the

classmates who had passed on since their 69th reunion this time last

year. But there was no lingering over any of it, no talk of illnesses

or physical limits holding them back. I found myself wondering if

part of their longevity might be simply being more interested in

living than in dying. I recalled the apt quote from George Bernard

Shaw that includes these words: “[Life] is a sort of splendid torch

which I have got hold of for the moment, and I want to make it burn

as brightly as possible before handing it on to future generations.”

Shortly after a dessert of rich chocolate cake topped with

chocolate sauce, the sound of forks clinking on water glasses gained

the attention of some. Soon, those few in the hearing group managed

to shush the others into a semblance of silence. Bill spoke for the

reunion committee and thanked all for coming. As he spoke, there were

calls of, “Louder, Bill. Some of us are deaf, you know.” There was

more good-natured laughter and smiles and nods from those of us with

still-sharp hearing.

What had I learned from this class of 1934? My sense was that you

just keep going -- you get up, you search, you live, you go for the

gusto ... even when you may be out of step.

What am I sitting here for? I need to run with that “splendid

torch” NOW.

* CHERRIL DOTY is a creative life coach and artist. You can reach

her by e-mail at cherril@cherrildoty.com or by calling (949)

251-3883.