The gift of a life.

I lost a good friend this week. A neighbor who was 91 and lived an amazing life. He was a kind, quiet, witty man who loved his wife (married 68 years) and his many children, grandchildren and probably great-grandchildren (I’m not sure if that’s happened yet). I miss him already.

I”d see him outside with his sweet wife, walking slowly with the aid of a walker and one of his sons, taking small, sure steps when the weather allowed. He was retired many years from a long and successful career, and from what I gathered, he mostly enjoyed time with family, whittling walking sticks, and playing music on his back porch. Just a simple, easygoing, pleasant person you enjoyed knowing.

And while part of me was sorry he chose to go so close to Christmas, knowing how hard that can be for those who remain behind, another part of me thought of what a beautiful time to go the hereafter, which I believe in. I have a feeling the angels have had to make room in their musical group for this man whose smile could brighten the gloomiest days.

How like the Christmas story this week has felt. A soul departs after almost a century of life on earth, ready for the next adventure. Another soul enters the universe and transforms it forever. One is wrinkled and a bit weary, with wisdom and patience that can only come with age. The other is new and fresh and absorbing all that comes its way.

There’s something beautiful about people who have reached this level of life. Think of what they know, and what they’ve survived. The lessons they’ve learned the hard way. The things they’ve taught others simply by being around them. And how in many cases they’ve had to accept what happens to far too many older adults: being ignored, written off, passed by without a second look.

I’ve always believed your life is missing something if you do not have at least one friend who is over 80. They are jewels who shine from within; gifts that loved to be received and valued.

There are those who say Christmas is for children. I’ve never agreed with that. Maybe these people are talking about toys and stockings and cookies. But even so, is it not the child in each of us that anticipates something wonderful on Christmas Eve? Does it matter what age you are when you stand outside at midnight under a full moon on a crisp night and look upwards?

Maybe it’s the child inside each of us that is awakened to the magic. And maybe, when we lose a treasured elder friend, it’s because the child in them was ready to run again…only this time among the clouds.

Merry Christmas, my friend. Merry Christmas everyone.