Archive for April 26th, 2008

How Do I Feel Being Old?

Saturday, April 26th, 2008

Let’s take a short departure from the “Jim Hoag Story”. I saw this printed in the Rochester IBM Retirement newsletter. It’s credited to Anonymous, so I’m assuming I can re-print it here. I don’t feel everything described here, but I wish I did.

A young person asked me how I felt about being old. I was taken aback, for I do not think of myself as old. Upon seeing my reaction, she was immediately embarrassed, but I explained that it was an interesting question, and I would ponder it, and let her know.
Old Age, I decided, is a gift. I am now, probably for the first time in my life, the person I have always wanted to be. Oh, not my body! I sometime despair over my body, the wrinkles, the baggy eyes, and the sagging butt and often I am taken aback by that old person that lives in my mirror (who looks like my mother!), but I don’t agonize over those things for long.
I would never trade my amazing friends, my wonderful life, my loving family for less gray hair or a flatter belly. As I’ve aged, I’ve become more kind to myself, and less critical of myself. I’ve become my own friend. I don’t chide myself for eating that extra cookie, or for not making my bed, or for buying that silly cement gecko that I didn’t need, but looks so avante garde on my patio. I am entitled to a treat, to be messy, to be extravagant.
I have seen too many dear friends leave this world too soon; before they understood the great freedom that comes with aging. Whose business is it if I choose to read or play on the computer until 4 AM and sleep until noon? I will dance with myself to those wonderful tunes of the 60 & 70’s, and if I, at the same time, wish to weep over a lost love … I will. I will walk the beach in a swim suit that is stretched over a bulging body, and will dive into the waves with abandon if I choose to, despite the pitying glances from the jet set. They, too, will get old!

I know I am sometimes forgetful. But there again, some of life is just as well forgotten.. And I eventually remember the important things. Sure, over the years my heart has been broken. How can your heart not break when you lose a loved one, or when a child suffers, or even when somebody’s beloved pet gets hit by a car?
But broken hearts are what give us strength and understanding and compassion. A heart never broken is pristine and sterile and will never know the joy of being imperfect. I am so blessed to have lived long enough to have my hair turning gray, and to have my youthful laughs be forever etched into deep grooves on my face. So many have never laughed, and so many have died before their hair could turn silver.
As you get older, it is easier to be positive. You care less about what other people think. I don’t question myself anymore. I’ve even earned the right to be wrong. So, to answer your question, I like being old. It has set me free. I like the person I have become. I am not going to live forever, but while I am still here, I will not waste time lamenting what could have been, or worrying about what will be.And I shall eat dessert every single day (If I feel like it) Anonymous

Dad

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My Grand Parents

Saturday, April 26th, 2008

When writing the last post, I realized that I haven’t said much about my Grandfather and Grandmother. Elaine and Louis Altman were my Grandma and Grandpa, even though Elaine was my Grandpa’s second wife. My real Grandma died in 1941, a year or so before I was born. So, I never knew her. But I did know Elaine. If I get to Heaven (or the Celestial Kingdom), I want to see her second only to my mother. Even though we were not blood related, she treated me like a grandson and she was great. I loved her and grandpa very much.

We lived with them when I was little. We lived on Haskell Street in Battle Creek and then we moved over to Kelley Street. Grandma and Grandpa lived on Kelley and there was a vacant lot right next to their house. My Mom bought that lot and built our new house. I remember sitting by the living room window that faced the lot and watching the house take shape as they built it. I slept on the porch and the light came in from the street lights. It’s a wonder I got any sleep. But I loved it.

My Grandpa was Louis Martin Altman. He was born in Chicago in 1892 and died in 1962 while I was in the Air Force. My mother lost her husband and her father within a three-month period. That’s one reason I was able to leave the Air Force early and come home. I believe my brother Martin is named after Grandpa. He was an electrician by trade. Barb says that it may be because of him that I majored in Electrical Engineering later at BYU. I’ll never know for sure. Let me tell you some of the things he did that I remember.

In Battle Creek, there was a building called the Wolverine Building. (Michigan is the Wolverine State.) It used to be the tallest building in town, probably about 20 or 25 stories tall. On top of the building was a four-sided structure to which a huge “W” was attached. This W would light up at night and you could see it for miles. It was the first thing you saw when you drove into Battle Creek at night for years and years. It’s gone now. Louis was the man who wired that W and got it working in the first place. One time, he took me up to the top floor of the Wolverine building and I got to see the W up close. It was very cool and I was so proud of him.

One other thing he did was, he wired and got to work the very first traffic light in Battle Creek. I don’t know where it was, exactly. It was just a story he liked to tell. When I lived at his house he worked at the Battle Creek newspaper “Enquirer and News”. I believe the paper is still being printed. At least, it was the last time I checked. He was the electrician for the paper and if the presses broke down and the reason was electrical, they would call him at any hour of the day or night so he could fix it. I went with him to the building where they printed the paper several times. The only thing I remember about the trips were the gigantic rolls of paper they used to print the paper. We’d walk through the storage area where they stored the paper.

Elaine played the piano and I still have sheet music that was in the piano seat at her house. My mother saved it. I was thinking about selling it on eBay, but maybe not. It’s what I have left that belonged to her. I also have a vase and a marble topped table that belonged to her. The table is in our living room right now. Whoever reads this and wants those things, let me know and I will save them for you when I’m gone.

I saw my first TV at their house. They had a small 17 inch black and white floor set. Every Friday night, Grandpa and I would sit and watch the Friday Night Fights. It didn’t convert me over to be a boxing fan, though. I sincerely hope I get to see them again in the here-after. They are two of the finest people I have ever known in my life.

Next, we’ll get back to the time-line.

Dad

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