The Old Men's Table

“When I arrive early for the weekly meeting of our service club, I get my food at the buffet and find a spot at a table that’s occupied by other old guys who came early. Although it’s not official, this has become a sort of Old Men’s Table. Looking around the room, I can identify the unofficial Politicians’ Table, the Successful Women’s Table, and several tables of younger men and women on their way up in the community.”

“So, Curmudge, what’s so special about the Old Men’s Table? I presume that it is populated by old codgers like you.”

“Sometimes, Jaded Julie, I am the youngest. Sadly, our tablemates tend to die off. Then we hear, ‘Carl died on Saturday? But he was sitting right in that chair last Tuesday. I can’t believe he’s gone.’ Well, my wife died three months ago, and I can’t believe she’s gone. Then someone else says, ‘My wife died four years ago, and I think about her every day.’ “

“That certainly sounds depressing; but I suspect that you are headed toward some sort of lesson, so I’ll keep listening.”

“After a few more comments about Old Carl, we return to our old-guy jokes. ‘I’m so old that I have to pre-pay when I order a three-minute egg.’ ‘I never fill my car’s gas tank because I’m afraid I won’t live long enough to use it all.’ ‘Who wants to live to be 90? Someone who is 89.’ “

“Curmudge, I surely hope you live long enough to get to the point of this story.”

“Don’t leave yet, Julie. Our old-guys group is about evenly divided between widowers and those with a living wife. The outlooks of the two groups are dramatically different. Those with a wife are concerned about dying and leaving their wife to fend for herself.”

“Of course we all know that widows fare better than widowers, but it’s easy to appreciate why a husband would be worried.”

“I certainly was. My wife couldn’t even stand on a ladder and change a light bulb. And because she was almost three years younger, it never occurred to me that I might outlive her. We even joked about the traveling she would do with her second husband.”

“So Curmudge, how does one’s outlook change when he becomes a widower?”

“Death is always worse when it disrupts the ‘orderly march to the grave,’ i.e., older people are expected to die first. So when one loses a younger wife, his grief is doubled. But he also is freed from his worry about his wife living by herself.”

“Perhaps, Curmudge, that explains why you appear cheerful on the outside but are grieving on the inside.”

“Another difference in the widower’s outlook is that death has lost much of its sting. We don’t fear death as long as it is not slow. One of the ‘old guys’ recently suffered a disabling stroke; everyone fears that. But at the same time, we don’t seek death either. We are not like Job, who ‘long(s) for death but it comes not,’ (Job 3:21). We are more like my mother who said long ago, ‘It doesn’t matter when I die…but not today.’ “

“So do we have a lesson to take home, Curmudge?”

“A Muslim friend said to me a few years ago, ‘Death is a part of life.’ There will be times in your life when you’ll need to remember that simple truth.”

Affinity’s Kaizen Curmudgeon