Old Age Day by Day April 6, 2010

I was waiting in line yesterday to buy my ticket for Tim Burton's Alice in Wonderland, and a man was behind me with twin girls about six years old. One of the girls came up to me and said hi, then asked "Are you old?" I said I guessed I was as I was 64. She then said "Are you gonna die?" and I said "Eventually, but not yet." I was fighting feeling bristly, but attempting to be kind, and I figured my gray hair was a novelty to her. There are a lot of children with no grandparents around, or any real contact with their elders. She was just curious, but I wondered at that moment if I should dye my hair or have surgery or dress younger. Then I relaxed, and got comfortable with my hot dog, popcorn and diet coke. They were in the same theater, a few rows up from me, and every time the little girl went out and came back she gave me a look. I could tell I was having more fun than she, and she wanted some kind of connection. Had death hit her recently, but she didn't know what it was? Did she need a female, and all she had was a clueless dad? It could have been any story. But as I feel so often these days, kids want something from us older folks. What is it?

Kudos to the dad who took his girls not to a loud, violent film but something he thought his kids would like, and who didn't yank an arm or apologize to me. He figured I didn't need to be taken care of, I could handle it myself. A good dad. I had a dad who thought I could take care of myself. When I was seventeen and decided I wanted to check out different religions, he drove me to temples and churches and cathedrals, and never complained. He'd drop me off and pick me up after the service, and he acted as if it was natural to question what the world was about and my place in it. He never said a word about religion when I married a Muslim. He just thought I was too young (I was). He let me find out about the world without insisting he knew what was best for me.

When our older kids became conservative Christians for a while as teenagers, we drove them to church and back and let them feel their way around what they wanted and needed. We trusted them. We weren't so certain we knew what was right for them. It's better not to be certain, at least not certain about others' lives. Let them ask the questions, because the questions may be more important than the answers.