When It’s Your Turn to Be the Elder

Last week, my husband Dave and I had the privilege of traveling with my parents to Indianapolis, Indiana, to watch my brother, Jim Casella, be inducted into the DCI Hall of Fame.

It was a really big deal! And what made it even more special was that my parents, who are now in their upper 80s, were able to be there to watch their son receive such an incredible honor.

What a gift!

There was a lot involved in this trip. airports, airplanes, rental cars, hotels, huge venues like Lucas Oil Stadium…and a LOT of walking.

So, for the first time, my parents used wheelchairs to get around the big places.

At the airports, we arranged for airport wheelchairs. Airport personnel have to push those, so Dave and I just had to keep up! And let me tell you, my parents got the royal treatment. They were whisked through the airport, helped with everything they needed, and we didn’t have to worry about them getting exhausted before we even got where we were going.

Once we were in Indianapolis, we rented wheelchairs that we could use outside of the airport. That’s when it became our turn to push.

And something really struck me.

My parents had a hard time accepting the help.

Even while they were sitting in their wheelchairs, they would reach out and try to open doors.

“Stop it! I’ve got it!” I’d tell them.

They were still trying to help us help them.

At one point, they said they felt like they were being a burden.

Ohhhhh no.

You are NOT a burden.

Not even a little bit.

It was a privilege to push them around. I was grateful that they were there. I was grateful that they were able to make this trip in their upper 80s. I was grateful that they got to sit in that stadium and watch their hugely successful son be recognized for something he has dedicated so much of his life to.

How lucky are we?

It’s so important to honor our elders. This is not new to me.  But I did start thinking more deeply about elder-ness

These are the people who spent years taking care of us.

They carried us when we couldn’t walk. They drove us places. They opened doors. They hauled our stuff around. They fed us, worried about us, helped us, taught us, and showed up for us over and over again.

So when the time comes…

Let us carry the bag.

Let us open the door.

Let us push the wheelchair.

It’s our turn.

But there’s another side to this that I hadn’t really thought about before.

When it becomes our turn to be the elder, we have to learn how to accept the help too.

That’s probably going to be harder than it sounds.

I’m pretty independent myself, so I have a feeling I might need to remember my own words someday!

There is NO SHAME in using a wheelchair.

There is no shame in needing an extra hand.

There is no shame in walking a little slower, asking someone to carry something, or letting somebody else open the door.

And needing help does not make you a burden.

You’ve earned the help.

You deserve the help.

And the people who love you may actually want to help you.

I certainly did.

Pushing my parents around Indianapolis wasn’t a chore. It was an honor. I was just so happy they were there.

Someday, if I’m lucky, it will be my turn to be the elder.

And when that day comes, I hope I remember this trip.

I hope when someone says, “I’ve got you,” I don’t fight them.

I hope I don’t keep reaching for the door.

I hope I sit back, accept the help, and maybe even enjoy a little of that royal treatment.

Because after a lifetime of opening doors for everyone else…

maybe it’s okay to let someone open the door for you.