Spiritual Eldering teaches us that one of the roles of an Elder is to mentor
future generations. How do we do that? Is it an intentional process? Do we plan
for it? Does it just happen spontaneously? I believe that it happens in all
those ways and many more. Here is one example.
Last year, before going to Orlando to lead a Spiritual Eldering Leadership
training, I asked my dad, who is now approaching his 90th birthday, "is
there anyone in Florida we should visit?" He responded, "Annette"
- a name that I had probably not heard in more than 40 years.
Annette and my mother had been friends since before my parents' marriage. She
was single and lived in "The City"-Manhattan. We lived in Brooklyn,
and while my parents represented safety, comfort and security, Annette conjured
up a vision of sophistication, flamboyance, mystery, fun, and a little danger. I
adored her. She would come to our house dressed in beautiful clothes, smelling
wonderful, and wearing luxurious fur coats and muffs (fur pouches with openings
at both sides to keep your hands warm in the winter). They were lined with silk,
and had little pockets inside that held all sorts of exotic things like
lipsticks and perfume sprays.
I called Annette about a month before our trip. She was absolutely delighted to
hear from me. I could tell from the tone of her questions that she thought I was
about 25. I had to gently tell her that I was almost 60, although she adamantly
refused to tell me how many years of life experience she had.
I told her that my favorite memories of her were of the muffs and that she
always smelled wonderful. There was a long pause. I became frightened. Had she
forgotten? Was she showing signs of Alzheimer's? After what seemed like a very
long time, she said incredulously, "How can you remember that? You were no
more than four years old the last time I saw you. I always wore Chanel Number 5
in those days."
After the workshop, we drove from Orlando to Miami, and visited her. From the
moment she opened the door, the years just melted away-we were instant
confidants. We spent a delightful afternoon reminiscing, and as our visit was
ending, she asked me if I would like something to remember her by. Of course!
She went into her bedroom and came back with a small black lame cosmetic purse,
lined with silk. It was lovely, and I was grateful that she gave it to me.
Somehow, the topic of the muffs came up again. She told me that they weren't in
style in the 40's, but she had cold hands, and had the muffs made for her. She
went into a closet and took out a carefully wrapped, small gray, round Persian
lamb muff. "Is this what you remember?" Sadly it wasn't.
The one I remembered was larger, rectangular, and brown. I was disappointed, but
said that I was much smaller at the time, so maybe it just looked larger to me.
The she brought out another carefully wrapped package. "s this it?: And
there it was-shiny brown fur, lined in black silk, with tiny pocket-just as I
remembered it. I was instantly transported back more than 50 years. I could see
my mother, our house, and hear their laughter.
"Would you like it?" she asked. Would I like it? This is a gift beyond
measure to me-a bridge to the past, and wonderful connection to the present. Was
Annette aware of her impact on me those many years ago? Probably not. I was a
young child, and she was just being who she was.
I am coming to realize that we're frequently mentoring people, even when we're
not aware of it. Spiritual Eldering teaches us to be mindful of how we are in
the world-we may be someone's mentor, and not even know it.
