As I write, I'm visiting my parents in Indianapolis. It's the area where I grew up, and I can't help it that, when I walk around the area, I'm living in two times at once: the Indianapolis that exists now, and the Indianapolis in 1974 at the same time. I see all the changes that have happened over time, but I also see, very clearly, the way things used to be. My mom and dad were young and strong. I didn't think they were all that young at the time, but now I know that they were. The American people were prosperous, the middle class was strong, the war in Viet Nam was ending. People could find jobs--good paying jobs--without a lot of competition. If you had a job working as a UAW worker, you had it made with a big hourly pay and lots of benefits. A college education was affordable back then--down right cheap. I was off to Lincoln Christian College in the fall of that year. Tuition for me at that time was about three hundred dollars for the semester. I spent a few hundred more for my dorm and a meal ticket.
Now half of all Americans are either poor or low income. Good paying jobs are very hard to come by. If you start work as a UAW worker today, you get nine dollars an hour and no health insurance. If you start college today, you may find yourself in debt for the rest of your life. One grad class for me in Michigan is over 1500 dollars. That's about what my entire tuition for a semester at Indiana University was back in the 90's where I got my BA in English and Latin and did my Teaching Certification Program.
I am no longer 17 years old. I am 55, and the world has changed so very much.
I had a twilight zone experience the other day when I went to buy a "White Elephant" give for a coworker. I went to Goodwill and picked up a cheesy lamp for three bucks. When I went to pay, the clerk asked me if I was 55 or older, because I could get a senior discount. Without thinking I said, "no." My son with with me and laughed and said, "yes, he is." It was then that Rod Sterling stepped out from behind the counter and spoke to the television audience: "This is Mr. Ogle. When he walked into this store he was 17 years old. now he must confront the fact that he has just become a senior citizen living in third world America. He has two adult children who still need a lot of support, quite a few big bills, and he works 56 hours a week just to make ends meet...and now he must deal with the effects of...the Twilight Zone" And the music creeps up: Naw nee naw naw, naw nee naw naw....
Life is painful. I understand that. But why does it have to be soooo painful?
My dad took me to McDonald's this morning where he often goes to meet some other senior friends of his. It is his birthday today, but they must not know that since they don't greet him with a "Happy Birthday!" He's 81 and at this point in life, I wonder if anyone really want to be reminded of the fact.
Jody was working today. I know her from my high school years at Decatur Central. I found out that her husband, who is my age, has cancer. She said he went through one round of prostate cancer when he was 50. Now at 55 he is going through another round with a different cancer. The doctors, she says, don't know what it is. It is apparently rare and aggressive.
Jody greeted my father wit a lot of affection, rubbing his shoulders as he sat and ate. She's been there for years now--ever since that McDonald's opened up on the corner of 67 and High School Road. Dad has been going to meet his friends there for nearly as long as that, I think. Jody knows him well.
I haven't been following Facebook very much in recent weeks so when she first mentioned the cancer, I wasn't sure what to say since she had obviously posted some of the info on Facebook and I had either missed it or had forgotten that she had. Either way, I waited to see if I could figure out what was going on. She sat down and talked to us awhile. It is apparent that she needs to talk about the cancer thing, that that is restricted a bit by the social situation. I still listened and asked questions about it as much as I could. In another situation I would have talked and listened a lot longer. People need to talk about these things. She mentioned that sometimes at night, when she can't sleep, she would get up and write things down and that seems to help her sleep a lot better.
She showed me several pictures on her phone, starting with her wedding picture. She wore a white dress that looked a bit like a granny gown, and he war a suit and vest. His jacked had those really wide lapels and his hair was like a large Afro. It was easy to spot the era and it gave me a bit of whiplash when it jerked me back in time again to the 70's. She flipped through the pictures and showe me one of her husband on a motorcycle with a big beard and hair to match, and then finally to pictures of the recent cancer on his throat. "It's gotten wors since the picture was taken," she said. "He doesn't want people to see him like this because he's not sure how to react to them when they see it, but he doesn't seem to mind me letting them know by photos."
My heart really went out to her. She's such a good person. Why does life have to be sooo painful I ask myself again.
The conversation went in other directions since my dad and the others were around. Jody told a story about George, one of the other seniors that used to come there for coffee in the mornings with my father. George is dead now, but when he was dying, Jody said she got a call from him. "You'd think," he said to her on the phone, "that the manager of McDonalds would come and visit a regular customer on his death bead."
"What can I bring you, George?" she asked.
"How about a strawberry shake?" he answered.
jody took him a strawberry shake and visited with him several hours as he lay on his death bed.
I've reflected on that story since this morning--thought about it all day, in fact. I thought, what a remarkable person she must be, to have developed relationships like that; to have cared about these old seniors sitting around gabbing every morning. A wonderful, giving human being whose husband has come down with cancer a second time. Why, I wonder. I don't have an answer for what has been called "the problem of pain." there really isn't one. Life is full of pain, but what I am thankful for is that life also presents to us people like Jody. People whose hearts are full of love and care. People like Jody remind me that there is good in this world. Jody, I wish you the best. I will pray for you and your husband. Come what may, I want you to know that you give me the kind of hope I need this Christmas. I need to know that such things as love, kindness and compassion are still alive the way you have shown me in the few moments that you sat down with us today. I wish you well this holiday. God keep you.
