Helen Kendall asks us to listen and learn

Helen Kendall

As I sat in a pub recently enjoying the delights of a Sunday roast lamb shank that arrived so quickly after ordering it made me a bit nervous, I noticed a young family joined by an elderly relative. While the parents were taking great care to make sure that Granny was comfortable and involved in conversation, the youngest member of the family, a ten year old boy, seemed totally absorbed in his PSP games console and totally unabsorbed in Granny. I was struck by how much he was missing out on a great opportunity. The old lady at the table would probably only be a part of his life for maybe another 5 or at most 10 years, but instead of asking questions, learning about an era of life that he would never experience, and perhaps gaining some insight, he was too preoccupied with his game. I started to wonder whether my response to the elderly was really any different.

Its no secret that we live in a world where the old are ignored, silenced and sidelined. Debates on euthanasia and overflowing nursing homes shout that our old people are unloved, unnoticed and inconvenient. Think about it, when was the last time you saw anyone over 70 on TV being interviewed about something not directly related to the elderly? When did you last read a magazine or web article written for a mainstream audience by someone over 70? Most media forms encourage our notion that the old have nothing of relevance to say to the rest of us.

But are we are missing out? In our fast paced, high tech, low relationship world it is hard to imagine taking time out to spend with an older person, learning about their life and hearing their wisdom. They talk slowly, move slowly and think slowly. Why would I talk to an elderly person when I can find anything I want to know on the internet in half the time?

A few months ago I took a weekend out of my very hectic, fast paced life and went on a poetry and prayer retreat in Worcester. I'd never done anything like it before and will admit to feeling a bit nervous as I walked into the Victorian manor house where the retreat was based. On walking into the first session and looking round a room of about twenty occupants I found that I was the only person who was under 70 years old. And some of them where over 80!! Shock horror. How would I relate? What would we talk about? At the beginning we struggled to understand each other. I work for a ministry that sets up youth pop bands to work in schools presenting the Christian message in a relevant way. But trying to explain what kind of dancing I do, and what kind of bands we set up was near impossible. Take out any references to MTV, hip hop and current pop bands and you aren't left with many ways to explain. But in the end I think we understood each other... (although I am glad I didn't take up their offer to dance in the Eucharist service. Hardcore hip hop dance probably wouldn't have been their thing!).

After settling in, I found it totally refreshing and enthralling to spend my weekend with people so different to those I normally surround myself with. Many of the women on the course had had influential careers in their time or had brought up families and they all just had an amazing perspective on life that I guess only living a long time can give you. They had learned the secrets of stillness and of finding God in their surroundings and in nature and hearing him speak through the ordinary things in life. I found that although my life is so full, they with their grasp of stillness and peace had something I didn't.

So as we approach Christmas, the one time in the year when we usually do come into contact with the older people in our lives, maybe take time to really talk to them. Go somewhere quiet, take a short stroll, walk round a National Trust house or go for a drive and really talk, or really listen while they talk. Ask questions, learn secrets, because if not now then when? They don't have forever, and the next generation of older people will not have experienced the things that these ones have. You might learn something new.