“Your youth evaporates in your early 40s when you look in the mirror. And then it becomes a full-time job pretending you’re not going to die, and then you accept that you’ll die. Then in your 50s everything is very thin. And then suddenly you’ve got this huge new territory inside you, which is the past, which wasn’t there before. A new source of strength. Then that may not be so gratifying to you as the 60s begin, but then I find that in your 60s, everything begins to look sort of slightly magical again. And it’s imbued with a kind of leave-taking resonance, that it’s not going to be around very long, this world, so it begins to look poignant and fascinating.” Martin Amis*
***************
Amis is commenting on the phases of our lives. I don't remember my 40s the way he does. I don't ever remember pretending I wasn't going to die although I have to admit that my own death seemed a long way off in my 40s and even 50s.
I like this imagery - "... suddenly you've got this huge new territory inside you, which is the past, which wasn't there before. A new source of strength." This realization came to me in my late 50s and early 60s, brought on by the march of time as well as the death of my parents and the realization that I knew so little about their past and the past of grandparents and others who were on the other side. What gave them strength as they went through life's journey? Why didn't I ask them more questions? Their wisdom and counsel could have helped me on my journey. Why was I so focused on my journey that I was insensitive to their journeys?
I do feel the "hugeness of the past" and the desire to record and share stories that will help others know what gave me strength on this journey. As the unofficial family archivist, I have records and stories of many generations of family members. This includes hundreds and hundreds of photographs. So much past to preserve, so many stories to tell. I feel a stewardship for our ancestors and their stories - so future family won't forget those who came before.
I remember when I realized I had more "past" than "future" here on earth, even if I'm fortunate enough to live to a "ripe old age," whatever that might be. These thoughts don't depress me but they do cause me to feel some urgency and do some pondering about what I do with these remaining years on earth. I suppose these feelings are part of the "leave-taking resonance" Amis mentions.
He also uses the words magical and fascinating. One of the advantages of moving to a totally different part of the country at our stage in life is that everything is new. There's much to learn, much to fascinate us, much to do. Nature - the light, the water, the green that's everywhere, even the soft drizzly rain - adds some magic to our lives.
Poignant, in the sense of profoundly touching, describes the feelings I have as I think about my past that has led me to this time in life. That's also how I feel when I ponder my remaining years on earth. I am thankful for the knowledge that this journey on earth leads to even more adventures and growth on the other side of the veil - and meeting up with those people whose stories I hopefully will record and share before I'm finished here.
*"The Martin Chronicles" by Ron Rosenbaum,
[Martin Amis interview]; Smithsonian,
September 2012, page 40
No comments:
Post a Comment