Recently I went to visit my husband’s grandpa, Al Jette, who lives in an assisted living facility. He’s a remarkable man in many ways. This year he turned 97. Just before his September birthday, he was still driving, able to care for himself, attended church and Sunday school regularly, rode his exercise bike every day at 4:30 PM while watching Jeopardy, and could solve word puzzles in the newspaper quicker than I could. He used to walk over to my house on the 1st of every month and hand me a ten dollar bill for the Cystic Fibrosis Foundation. It was important to him. In the mornings, when he watched my minivan drive away, taking the kids to school, he told me he would pray for us all and thank God that we lived close by. He shoveled snow, helped me with the carpool and attended our kids’ games and music concerts. Even at 97, he is a handsome man with a full head of nicely combed hair; he’s a snappy dresser with an attractive smile. I happen to think my husband looks a lot like him.
What is extraordinary for my children is that they have been able to grow up with their great-grandfather right across the street from them. I suppose they think that most kids their age have a close relationship with their great-grandparents. Doesn’t everyone play four-square in the driveway with their great-grandpa? I hope they know how special it truly is.
Now, Grandpa Jette no longer lives across the street from us. He suffered a stroke just a few weeks before his 97th birthday and it left him in a physically weaker state. It was scary for our family and we wondered if that was going to be “his time”. But when asked by medical staff about “his wishes”, in case things got worse, Grandpa communicated to them,
“Do whatever it takes. I have great-grandchildren you know.” Thankfully, Grandpa experienced a remarkable recovery! However, things have changed and his independence is gone, his driving days are over. Now, he gets around in a wheelchair or a walker. His meals are made for him and he is assisted in the simplest tasks, from the restroom to putting on socks.
But when I visited with him, it was clear to me that his mind was still very much the same as always; sharp, mindful and even teasing . He remembers his life so clearly. From the first car he ever bought, to the 4th grade Reading Friend he volunteered with 4 years ago. He was 93 when he did that. Then he said something that stopped me in my tracks.
“Sometimes I feel guilty that I can’t volunteer with those students anymore.” How could he feel guilty, I wondered? He was 97 years old. Who could blame him? He continued.
“You know, it’s funny. I realize that I’m the oldest person in this building. But I don’t feel it at all. I still think of myself as a young man and get frustrated that I can’t do the things I want to.”
I haven’t been able to stop thinking about his words. Basically, what he was trying to tell me is, you’re only as old as you feel. He is right! Age should never stop any of us from creating and accomplishing goals, helping people, and learning. (Although I told my children they need to be an adult before they can eat ice cream from the container.) Up until his stroke, Grandpa Jette was still a regular attender at church, Sunday school, and weekly Bible studies. I used him as an example to my kids.
"Grandpa Jette reminds us to never stop gaining wisdom, working, and doing our best. There isn’t some magic age where we’ve “arrived” at a complete understanding of life and God." I am so grateful we have his example to follow.
Grandpa Jette, our prayer warrior.