Welcome to In the Deep.
I'm your host,
Katherine Ingram.
Some years ago,
My family came for a visit when I was living in Los Angeles.
One afternoon when my father and I were in the living room,
I put on the old song,
It's All in the Game,
The original by Tommy Edwards from the 50s.
It's a song that's been covered by many other great artists,
Including Van Morrison and the one that we're using in this podcast by Jack Jezero.
But the Tommy Edwards version is the classic.
I knew it was a favorite of my parents,
And it was also a favorite of mine as a child and ever since.
I thought it would be a sweet walk down memory lane with my father to listen to that song together,
Just the two of us in my living room.
But within the first few bars of the music,
I noticed that my father had tears in his eyes.
My lifelong macho father,
Not prone to sentimentality or displays of emotion,
Was crying.
Suddenly I had tears in my eyes as well.
I somehow knew that in that moment,
My father was crying for his lost youth,
Transported through memories of what that song evoked to a time of his prodigious energy in building his business,
His general gusto for life,
The good times of America after the war,
And who knows what other private images from his own inner and outer journeys,
Now all so completely gone.
Memories for him probably which were almost too tender to bear in their being so completely gone and required the release of tears.
I used to wonder about this phenomenon when I was young,
The sentimentality of older people.
I now know that this interpretation was born of youthful arrogance.
It's not sentimentality.
Sadness and its incumbent emotions are appropriate expressions in the increasing experience of loss.
When suddenly a particular image,
Smell or memory or YouTube video about a dog rescue or news of yet another friend's death or even the first bars of a long forgotten favorite song induced the release of tears.
It is often because there have been hundreds of previous losses and poignant moments that preceded that event and were stoically born,
But the tears sooner or later must come.
Here's the good news.
You get used to it.
You get used to letting tears flow as needed,
Used to feeling sad at times,
Used to knowing that anyone and anything can be taken at any moment and you let go.
I see the letting go,
I see the letting go moments as allies along the way to death,
Preparation for the big one,
A reminder of the reality in which we live,
A realm where all things pass.
And this also has the effect of softening the heart,
Knowing that one has to let go of everything that one holds dear and that everyone else has to do so as well.
It makes clear how precious is the time here.
Now I know that these words have been said thousands of times,
The preciousness of the time here,
But they do become more and more true as we know them in deeper places within ourselves.
It is why we often sense in many of our elders the wisdom that comes with age.
Have you ever just stopped and asked yourself what exactly is it that occurs in a life for this to be so?
How consistently it happens.
Not always,
But often.
That our elders,
Especially the grandmothers,
Just seem to have a deep sweetness and a wisdom.
I've always thought that grandmothers should rule the world rather than middle-aged men.
But anyway,
Have you ever wondered what exactly occurs in this transformative process?
I propose that it's the experience of multiple losses,
Which brings the understanding that there's no time for petty nonsense and hair-trigger reactions to personal fronts.
There's only time for love.
For what is the experience of loss but the absence from this world of someone or something that you have loved?
So when one thinks about how many losses one accrues as you age and how many reminders of love that represents,
One can see how this understanding of what is important deepens and grows.
This is yet another way that I allow loss to be my ally.
It reminds me of that which I have cherished and of my capacity to cherish,
And it's an impetus to be grateful for what is left.
The tears in the eyes of an older person,
It's not sentimentality,
It's love.
This has been In the Deep.
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Till next time.
