I can see that future eternity – right there in her eyes…
There was an Italian actress, whose name is Anna Magnani, who died at the age of 65 in 1973.
Now – as I am not Italian and was born some years after this actress’ death – I had not heard of this actress until the other day… And the reason I stumbled across this story is because I read an address that Pope Francis made on 8 Jun 2022, where he spoke about the gift of the elderly, or the gift of old age… You see, this actress – Magnani – was famous for telling her makeup artists, “Please don’t retouch my wrinkles. It took me so long to earn them.”
And I have been reflecting on this attitude to aging as I reflected on the words of the Holy Father. You see, I have witnessed – in a special way – both the gift and the sacrifice of aging, through the witness of the life of my maternal grandmother. And I have come to understand that aging is both a blessing and a cross.
My maternal grandmother was born in Lebanon (as were all of my grandparents). In Arabic, if you want to wish someone a happy birthday, you would add, “I hope that God will give you a hundred years of life.” And I have been reflecting on that too. You see, it occurs to me – upon reflection on my maternal grandmother’s life, God bless her – that reaching the hundred-year milestone is a very difficult cross. For I have come to realise that while it is true that the elderly live to see the birth of many – children, grandchildren, great grandchildren and great great grandchildren; it is also true that they live to see much death too. You see, my maternal grandmother has witnessed the death of children, grandchildren and great grandchildren. She has watched all the people that she ever knew in her youth – all those who she grew up with and knew as a younger woman – die before her. She is the last of her generation – the last one left. All of her siblings, cousins, friends and family have died and left her here behind…
And I imagine how that must feel for this little old woman, who sits quietly in her chair crocheting and knitting her jackets and booties and blankets for her great grandchildren. I can imagine the terrible cross of loneliness in understanding that her time is soon to come and that in a way, she is called to face that alone. None of the young who surround her could possibly understand what this is. And – because she is elderly – she does not have the people surrounding her to help her to prepare for eternity in the same way that a younger person would have them. There is no prayer group praying for her recovery. And for her family – who have known her for a hundred years – there is almost an unfeelingness of her imminent eternal life.
It is not that we do not love her or appreciate her age, it is rather that we are busy and used to it – so used to it that we have forgotten to marvel at the gift of life.
For I have come to realise – upon reflection – that my maternal grandmother is a great gift to our home. For her prayers are the prayers of the dying. And the dying receive great grace to pray. And this causes me to look at her anew – for I have come to realise that old age offers hope for the future…
For I can see that hope in the eyes of the elderly… I can see that eternity – right there in her eyes…
For with prayer, I stand on Holy Ground where everything is clear. Here. At the Foot of the Cross.
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