The elders amongst us
walk without their hands held high.
They work creating space for others,
listening as they go.
They shout not,
guiding the way through their presence.
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A way passed to them
and now to us if we are open to their gifts.
I am at a gathering this weekend where we are exploring what Eldership or Eldering means. And it is bringing up a lot of questions and some hurt.
I realise I missed the chance to soak in the elderly wisdom of my now-passed mother and father, during their final years. Years filled with challenges and sickness, and conversations with my sister still home in South Africa. Conversations I know have healed and mended much for her.
I sit with the hurt. And also the chance to embrace the fledgling elder in me. For all the conversations still to come.
