Rabbi Charles P. Sherman
In Honor of Flora Solow's Birthday
December 20, 2002
How Old Is Old?
Abraham J. Heschel used to say that in our culture it is less rude to ask someone how much money they have or the intimate details of their sex life than it is to ask them how old they are. We moderns spend billions of dollars trying to cover up and deny the signs of old age.
The truth is that we live with a strange paradox. On one hand, we all want to grow older; and, on the other hand, none of us want to be old. So far, no one has figured out how to reconcile these two desires. We would all much rather keep age at a safe distance. We are willing to analyze it or to study it, but we do not want to touch it or have it touch us.
First, we worry about the color of our hair, and then we worry about the disappearance of our hair. We fear the loss of our health and that fear saps us and makes us feel insecure – sometimes before any real loss even takes place.
How old is old? It depends on when and where you live. For example, if you’d lived in America at the beginning of the 20th century, 47 would have been very old, because that was the average life expectancy in this country in 1900.
If you want to talk about major changes which have taken place in the course of a century, this is surely one of the biggest ones. In a hundred years the average life expectancy in this country has increased from 47 to 74.
When you are a child in preschool, 13 seems old; when you are a Bar or Bat Mitzvah, your parents’ age seems old; when you are a 25-year old, 50 seems old; and if you’re 50, 80 seems old. But if you’re 80, 80 seems old. The truth is that how old you are is not a function of numbers, it is a reflection of your health, disposition and spirit.
Spiro Agnew said: "If you have seen one slum you have seen them all." That may be true of slums, but it is not true of human beings. If you have seen one 90-year old, you’ve only seen one 90-year old – for elders are not all the same.
Joseph Telushkin tells a wonderful story in his book on Jewish humor. The story goes that a man comes to the insurance company in Israel and wants to buy a policy. They say to him:
"How old are you?"
He says: "75."
They say: "Go away! We don’t sell life insurance to people that age."
He says: "But you sold a policy to my father last week, and he is 95."
They check their records and they find out that he is right. They tell him to come in next Monday and they’ll see if they can straighten this out.
He says: "I can’t come in next Monday. I’m going to my grandfather’s wedding."
The insurance agent says: "Really? How old is your grandfather?"
The man says: "115."
The agent responds: "115? Why does he want to get married at that age?"
The man replies: "He doesn’t! His parents are pushing him."
Age is relative. If you have the wrong relatives, they can really age you quickly. If not, you can live a long life and not be considered old.
So, why do I talk about age tonight? For two reasons. One is obvious; this evening we are celebrating the 90th birthday of a truly remarkable lady. When I called Flora last week to get some information, she said: "Don’t exaggerate and don’t make it too long." OK, I’ll summarize. Flora Solow has been an active, fully participating member of Temple Israel for more than 65 years, ever since she arrived in Tulsa. She is truly one of the Amudim – the pillars – of this congregation.
When I called her last Tuesday, she had just come in the door. She had been reading to our Early Learning Center students – which she does every Tuesday morning. And on Mondays, of course, Flora is a mainstay of our sewing group. For those of you who are not aware, the Sisterhood Sewing Group sews pillows and bags for the American Cancer Society to provide to mastectomy patients. It is a tremendous mitzvah, and we have a wonderful group of ladies who week-in and week-out fill this need. Nobody has been more regular for so many years as Flora.
And on Friday mornings, Flora helps pack meals at Christ the King Church for Meals-on-Wheels. Only three days of mitzvah-making at age 90? I asked her. "What do you do on Wednesdays?" She said: "I water my plants."
Flora Solow is a truly remarkable lady. We all love her sense of humor. We are familiar with her love of music. Whether it is the symphony, opera or ballet (which she studied as a young woman) – Flora has a true love of music.
How old is old? Not 90 if you’re Flora Solow – still going strong, independent, easy to get along with, great friend, people-person who enjoys cooking and dinner parties. We can only say k’ayn yerbu – may your years increase – ad maya v’esrim – to 120 in good health.
The second reason why I am speaking about aging tonight is because it is one of the themes of this week’s sedra. In our Torah portion for this Shabbat, Jacob grows old and, in the same sedra, Joseph grows old. This is the first example of a “sandwich generation.”
Nowadays, it is not so uncommon for people in their sixties to be busy taking care of their parents who are in their eighties. And it is not unheard of for people who are in their seventies to be taking care of their parents who are in their nineties. A woman recently said: "I just got finished raising my kids, and no sooner did they move out of the house than my parents moved in." This is not an uncommon occurrence today.
But Jacob and Joseph are the first examples of such a relationship in our Bible – two old men who care for each other spiritually, and one old man who must provide for the other physically.
How did they manage? Actually fairly well. Joseph lived in the capital city where he worked as Prime Minister. Jacob lived with the rest of his sons and families in Goshen, some miles away. Joseph came to visit him as often as he could considering he was a very busy man; he had the whole region’s food rations to worry about. And Jacob did fairly well. He learned not to interfere in the lives of his children, to let go and to let them raise their children their way.
He also did three things before he died which showed that the old man still had a keen mind of his own, even to the very end. One is that he gathered his children around his bedside and gave them his ethical will in which he corrected them, chastised them, focused on the good and the bad qualities of each one – and then blessed them. By doing that, Jacob became the author of the first ethical will, a custom which Jewish parents have continued ever since. There is going to be a class on ethical wills in the Institute of Adult Jewish Studies the second semester, and I recommend it highly.
The second thing Jacob did was to rewrite his will to make Ephraim and Manasseh, Joseph’s children, his heirs on an equal basis with his own children. Maybe this was Father Jacob’s way of saying “thank you” to Joseph for all the care he had given him in his old age. Maybe it was his way of paying Joseph back for all the heartache he had suffered in the years he was a slave and the years he was in prison. Jacob may well have felt a measure of guilt for what happened to Joseph and, perhaps, this was Jacob’s way of apologizing to his son.
And Jacob did one more thing. He blessed the two sons of Joseph and, when he did, something very interesting happened. Joseph arranged his sons before their zeidi with the oldest on the right side, the stronger hand, and the youngest on the left. Jacob switched his hands so that his right hand was on the youngest son; Joseph tries to correct his father because he knows how much pain this family has already suffered because of fathers who favored the younger child. First came the children of Abraham, then the children of Isaac, and then with the children of Jacob – so Joseph, who was himself the younger child, said to his father, ‘it is enough already, Dad, let’s stop this game already’. When he said that, we see that Joseph had changed, really changed in his old age. He was a younger son, he was favored and he saw how much harm that had done to him and to his brothers and so he said to his father, tactfully but firmly, ‘enough already, Dad, cut it out.’
Jacob is older than his old son so it is harder for him to change. But even he does a remarkable thing. Forget for a moment who gets the right hand and who gets the left. What is remarkable is that Jacob gives the two grandchildren one blessing. He says the identical thing to both of them. “May future generations bless their children by saying ‘May God make you like Ephraim and Manasseh’.” It is one joint blessing; unlike the separate blessings which he gave to his 12 sons, he gave one joint blessing to Joseph’s two sons.
The real lesson of our text is in what is not said. The two grandsons accept it; neither one of them says to their zeidi – ‘no fair, I want a blessing of my own’. Instead they both cheerfully and gratefully accept the joint blessing. Perhaps that is why on Shabbat Eve we bless our children “May God make you like Ephraim and Manasseh.” Perhaps what is means is: may the two of you get along, may the two of you not compete or fight or be jealous of each other – for is that not every parent’s deepest wish, that their children may get along with each other?
I am one of two sons. I’m the older by four and a half years, but my brother and I were always academically separated by six or more years. We didn’t go to the same schools and as children got along OK but were not especially close. We each had our own friends.
When our Father died (our Mother had predeceased him by many years) we realized – painfully – that there were now just the two of us. We made a promise to each other that we would try to become ever closer as the years went along, that we would call regularly and that at least once a year we would make the effort to see each other, to bring our families together. And we’ve done that. Two years ago this month, Nancy, our children and I traveled to London for my nephew’s wedding. It was a considerable expense, but we wanted to be there for my brother and sister-in-law, to share in their simcha. Next week, we look forward to my brother, sister-in-law and niece being with us to share in our simcha – because that is what brothers and sisters should do, be there for each other.
I tell you this because it makes the point that we need not be old too soon and smart too late. People can still live and grow and change, even in their old age. Joseph did it when he told his father – ‘do me a favor, Dad, please don’t chose one of my children over the other. I loved it when you did it for me many years ago; it made me feel so special. But, I’m older now and I realize it was not the right thing to do. So please don’t do it to my kids.’
Joseph was an old man when he said this, but he was still young enough to learn and to change. Jacob was, of course, even older; and yet, judging by what he did by giving one bracha to both children, he, too, was young enough to be able to change. The two of them go down in Jewish history, not only as the first “sandwich generation”, but as eternal proof that people can change – even in old age.
There is a saying which I detest. “You can’t teach an old dog new tricks.” I don’t know if that is true of dogs or not, but I know it is not true of people. You can teach old people new tricks or, more importantly, you can teach old people not to trick any more. You can teach them or, better yet, life can teach them, or they can teach themselves to be menchen even up to and in their old age. The story of Jacob and Joseph proves it.
So to all those here tonight who think they are old, Yogi Berra was absolutely right when he said: “It’s not over til it’s over.” There is still time. It may not be much time, but there is still time to heal wounds and make apologies and come closer to our children, to our siblings, to our mates, to our friends, as long as we still have life and mental faculties within us – there is still time to change and time to make amends. If you don’t believe me, look at Jacob, ask Joseph – they did it. So can we.
And if you and your parents didn’t get along when you were young, if you chafed under their discipline when you were dependant on them, you may have a second chance at the other end of the life-cycle when they grow up and are dependent on you.
The story of Jacob and Joseph and Ephraim and Manasseh is a powerful story. It speaks to all those among us who have an old parent or who are an old parent or both. It teaches us that up to and even in old age people can change. People can heal the wounds and do teshuvah for the mistakes of their youth and can come close to each other in bonds of love.
And our honoree tonight, Flora Solow, reminds us that as long as we have the breath of life within us, if we want, we can be givers. If we want to fully appreciate life, we can do that best by sharing our lives with others and trying to make the world a little bit better place. By looking at life with a sense of humor and going out – day after day, week after week – and brightening the lives of others.
Flora, happy birthday! You’re an inspiration to all of us who know you and love you. We look forward – right here, ten years from now – to celebrating your 100th birthday. Amen
I am grateful to Rabbis Baruch Frydman-Kohl and Jack Riemer whose wisdom is incorporated in this message.
