The Little Red Lighthouse sits on the rocky shore of the Hudson River at the north end of Manhattan. Since the early 1940’s he was dwarfed by the “great grey bridge” also called the George Washington Bridge. My younger brother at five years old loved the children’s book called The Little Red Lighthouse and the Great Grey Bridge. He was so taken with the story that when we rode a boat on the river around Manhattan, he called out to talk to the Little Red Lighthouse as we drifted past. Reading the book recently to my granddaughter, I was struck by the way this story speaks to those of us who, like that lighthouse, have been around for a long time. We wonder about our relevance.
The book gives the perspective of the Little Red Lighthouse himself. As the bridge is built and cables span the river, attached to steel girders, he wonders whether he is of any use. One night the lighthouse keeper doesn’t show up and he is sure that he is finished. Then a storm whirls around the point sweeping in fog that obscures visibility. The bridge calls down to him, “Little brother, where is your light? I call to the ships of the air but you are still master of the river. Quick, let your light shine again.” The lighthouse is surprised and says, “Am I brother of yours, bridge?” Soon after, the lighthouse keeper shows up dangling his keys. “Those boys stole my keys!” he says as he hurries up the spiral stairs. Soon the light beams across the water warning boats of the rocks below, and the Little Red Lighthouse knows that he matters.
As we get older, it is easy to feel irrelevant or slow to catch on to modern advances. Yet there are reasons we are still here. As I traverse the years over 50 (68 and counting) I notice wisdom and insight coming from my generational colleagues. Our voices are important, and our perspective is valuable. We can learn from youth and share our angle on modern life. And we can be as a witness to them as they step out and take responsibility. We need each other. We have a role to play as we reflect on our life experience and make sense of our purpose in this time of our lives. It may be as simple as being in a peaceful state, or we may have insights that crack open modern riddles.
Richard Rohr who wrote several books including Falling Upward: A Spirituality for the Two Halves of Life, said this about elders in that book, "Without elders a whole society perishes," and later in the same chapter, "Our elderly are seldom elders, it seems to me. When they are true elders, we fall in love with them."
Our culture can be harsh and hurried. Yet any of us of any age can turn within and tap into wisdom, do the best we can in the moment. This is a lifelong process with practices and tools to assist us. We are only complete when we take our last breath. Hopefully we can be at peace. Humility helps. Kindness helps. To attune to the seasons of life, as indigenous people did, as healers of ancient cultures did, is to give us a chance to align with each other.
My mother, who died at 87 of advanced dementia after a long and complex life, served many students who still remember her. In the last weeks of her life, barely able to move or speak, she mumbled a few words that surprised us. She said to a family member who had been distant from the rest of the family, “It's not too late to salvage.” She looked right at him. Then she repeated herself. He nodded and returned her gaze, but I wasn’t sure he took in what she said. She died peacefully just a few weeks later.
I didn’t talk to him about my mother’s words for many months. A year later he told me he mulled over her comment and was struck by her gaze. He took it to heart and made some moves to help heal his and the family’s old wounds. She modeled grace at the end of life, yet we may easily have missed her message. She was able to rise up out of the fog of advanced dementia to speak clearly before she left.
How tempting it can be to discount someone who is old. Our western society does that in part because we are in a hurry and don’t take time to pause and listen. My generation faces slowing down as we lean into elderhood. We are the generation who warned not to trust anyone over 30. Ahead of us are several older generations. To create the tapestry of a harmonious society, we face the challenge of getting past our prejudices about other generations as well as people who are just different.
The Little Red Lighthouse still stands today thanks to an initiative from a group of children who collected dimes and nickels to save the lighthouse and preserve the memory of a simple and powerful story for all time. The bridge says to the lighthouse and to all of us, “Quick, let your light shine again. Each to his own place little brother."
The Little Red Lighthouse