The handsome gentleman pictured above is my Dad, Ernst Longenecker. The portrait was taken in the late 1930s when my cousins and I (clustered on the steps of our Grandparents’ home, on the left side of the picture) were kids. I think most everyone who knew my Dad smiles over memories of this man.
He was an individual! He was a mechanical engineer by degree, a manager of various manufacturing companies, an inventor, a wonderful father, an outdoorsman, and a mellow story-teller. Dad had a passion for life. His enthusiasm influenced many people who knew him.
When Dad was 88 years old, I asked him if he attended the Retired Men’s Club at his church. Dad’s answer was classic: “I’m not about to hang around with those old geezers!”
Dad lived until age 102. His last years were marked by an increasingly painful arthritis and other ortho issues which slowed him down, physically. But he loved books, and continued reading until just after his 101th birthday. Suddenly his eyes would no longer focus, and the absence of reading broke his heart.
My dad had a pet peeve: people who spoke condescendingly to senior citizens. He used to say (rather vehemently!) “Don’t call me ‘spry’, and don’t call me ‘sprightly’! ” My husband and I chuckle every time we mention those words.
Why are some individuals young at 95 and others seem old by the time they reach 60? Health often plays a role, yet I’ve known people with frail health who maintained that life affirming vitality to the very end.
Both of my Grandmothers were youthful until they died, in their late 80s. One suffered from many ortho issues (my Dad’s Mother) and the other had serious cardiac issues. Neither of my Grandmothers let health problems interfere with their joy in living. They were Christian women who knew where they were ultimately going, and they had a lot of fun on earth in the meantime.
The common denominators (in every person I have known who lived a vibrant old age) are FAITH and PASSION! Faith in GOD and meaning in life. A passion for something, or things, causing joy when everything else hurts.
Dad loved travel, and when his body no longer traveled he continued to travel via books. He was passionate about new discoveries and technologies. He read THE WALL STREET JOURNAL assiduously, and he always seemed to know things the rest of us wouldn’t realize until years later. Dad lived on the “cutting edge”.
In the 1950s, when many of us (including myself) were cluelessly puffing and inhaling on our cigarettes, Dad began sending me clippings (from the above mentioned news source) linking smoking with lung cancer and other respiratory ailments. While most of my friends were still smoking, I had bouts of pneumonia and severe bronchitis—and I experientially understood the dangers of tobacco. In 1963 I quit smoking and never looked back.
One incident involving my Father looms large. When our 1st child was a toddler in 1955, she fell against a space heater and burned both hands. Laura’s fingers curled as she screamed with pain. Without hesitating, Dad sprang from his chair, picked Laura up, and rushed to the sink where he poured cold water from the tap on Laura’s hands. He held her hands under the cold water for many minutes. Finally, he turned the water off. Laura was peaceful and comfortable, and her burns never even blistered. This, in an era where most of us were still putting grease on burns!
In the 1960s, Dad got very excited. He told me that someday infinite amounts of information would be contained in a little “chip” about the size of his thumbnail. Quite frankly, I thought my father had crossed the line into science fiction. But he had such a glow in his eyes, when he talked about an “information revolution”.
Today I recall that conversation frequently, whenever I load the photos from my camera chip into my computer, or when my Husband’s cardiac technician holds a little disc in front of Joe’s chest where a pace maker/defibrillator is installed, to record the activities of his heart.
My body is following the genetic course set for me by Dad and his Mother. I have inherited the orthopedic issues—disintegrating bones and lumbar discs, spondylosis, sacroiliac disfunction, and general arthritis which becomes more pronounced, painful, and physically limiting every year.
But I’ve also inherited the passion gene. With books, a computer and I-pad, a piano, two spinning wheels and a plethora of gorgeous wool and vibrant silk for spinning (purchased online), knitting supplies, plants growing indoors and out, and art paraphernalia at my finger tips my body doesn’t need to be an athletic wonder. And I do not have to focus on pain!
A passion for living! A passion for learning, fueled and satisfied by books and online sources, and a love of creative pursuits—as many as possible for as long as possible. Most of all, a PASSION for our Lord. Praise Him, I know where I am headed!
Meanwhile, I love to dress up in fun and funky attire, drape beads around my neck, plug my ear holes with gems and dangles, and blend my PT exercises with the slow intro to the famous Greek ZORBA DANCE.
Recently, my loving and admiring husband said, “Oh my, you look spry and sprightly!” Unlike my Dad, I don’t mind those adjectives one bit! 🙂
Margaret L. Been, March 25th, 2019
(Reprinted, edited, and brought up to date from a 2011 entry in my health blog: accessible through GOOGLING “Margaret L. Been — RICHES IN GLORY”.)
Northern Reflections--glimpses of gold by Margaret L. Been 