My memories of my great grandfather Sullivan have always remained vivid in my mind. A former longshoreman, the man towered over everyone not only in height but in vitality of life. At four years old, he took me to my first tennis match and managed to keep me interested with his words and gestures. Great Grandpa Sullivan also took me to my first bar and gave me my first taste of beer and whiskey. Not a sip or a swallow, a taste barely smeared on each glass. He had this winning attitude and smile and a saying, "Someday you will be me." Life for my great grandfather was long for those days. Sully as some called him and I shared a similarity in that he witnessed the turn of one century into another as I would much later on. Together we bridged three centuries and met in the middle of one. When he passed on nobody could believe he died. Great Grandpa Sullivan seemed to be immortal. He was my first impression of the elderly.
We are the only species that is aware that we are mortal and will die. It is what separates us from the rest of the animal kingdom. As I grew from a child to man, I realized that Great Grandpa Sullivan had been a different sort of man from a different sort of a time. Even in his seventies, this redwood of a man commanded respect by his sheer presence. I also realized that is not the norm in our modern times. The elderly are abandoned by the young they call family or shoved to the side by those called neighbor. If they do not have money, they do not command respect. Our society swamps them with the tidal wave of change and discards them for not keeping up.
Does a twenty-five year old really concern him or her self with social security? Do they worry about having to choose to eat or purchase their prescriptions? It is not normal for them to have these concerns. A good parent would not leave their child to sit in a dark room all day. They consider that abuse. Yet, they will leave their own parent in a cold sterile environment living out there own life waiting to die. Because they have their own lives to live children find it hard to stop by and visit.
Why do we allow this? I believe it is out of fear. Great Grandpa Sullivan said it best, "Someday, you will be me." Those words would scare any young adult into retreat. I have performed at Assisted Living communities for many years. Too many times I was the only one outside of the staff that been in contact with them for weeks. I would hear stories of there beloved children and grandchildren. Their memories survived by faded photos stored in an antiseptic drawer. The room or bedside phone has movement only as shelf ornaments needing to be dusted. Occasionally, there is a spoken platitude of understanding from the senior. Once in a voice of regret, a woman spoke of her distant family. She capped her remembrance by saying, "I was them once, and I know how it is." Later I would find out she had kin as far as a block away.
Great Grandpa Sullivan was admonished by his granddaughter, my mother, when she smelled alcohol on my breath. He took a grandfatherly attitude with her and she melted out of respect. A generation has passed and I talk to my parents everyday. As little as a year ago, we believed those days would be ending soon. Though not as hardy as great Grandpa Sullivan was at their age, they fight for everyday they have. When I come across an elderly person in the street or during a performance, I remember Sully's words, "You will be me someday." I only hope we can rebuild our society into giving that kind of respect Great Grandpa Sullivan received when I do.
