This Too Shall Pass

We watched a movie tonight and though I can't recall the name Peter O'Toole was the lead character in it. I also can't remember the name of the young lady who was cast opposite him. She's too young and I grew up sort of with him. As Don said, we've watched him get old. It was about an old man who's friend has a nieces daughter come to live with him. Did you get lost in that or did you manage to keep up? Anyway, while the "uncle" can't stand this teenager, Peter O'Toole who shall be known as Morris becomes infatuated with her. Always a bit of a womanizer in his young days, she awakens something in him and he works at developing a relationship with her. She on the other hand, is at first put off by this old man but soon begins to take advantage of his affections, allowing him to buy her things ocassionally or take her out for lunch. At the same time though she becomes involved in a relationship with a boy her own age, which ultimately turn ugly during which Morris gets hurt. And as is so often the case, an injury for an old person suddenly bumps up his aging process. She in turn, is suddenly faced with the ugliness of her behaviour towards him and is stricken with remorse and volunteers to care for him as he recovers. Of course he soon dies and now she must grieve for him and in that grieving becomes aware, because of the turn out at his funeral, of the parts of his life that were, long before she knew him as an old man. Her attitude of course changes, she turns over a new leaf and becomes a better person, at least as far as we can tell.

Maybe this movie spoke to me because I am getting older myself. Sometimes, as long as I haven't walked past a mirror lately, I feel as though I am still young, at least in my mind. There are no wrinkles, no creases at the corners of my eyes or mouth, no grey hair, and a lifetime of possibilities ahead of me. But then I'm reminded that it couldn't possibly be that I am young, by my stiffness from sitting too long at my computer, or by not being able to see the recipe in my notebook even though I've written it with very big letters. So as I watched Morris responding to her, as he would have fifty years ago, only to have her recoil from him, instead of being welcomed because he was so old, and wrinkled and stooped and awkward, I think I saw myself, Don , all of mankind being forced to give in reluctantly to something that as young people, we never foresaw or would ever admit to. But I couldn't help but feel that even in the midst of his frustration, there was a certain grace that accompanied this whole process of aging and dying if you don't allow bitterness to creep in. Morris wasn't bitter and angry, instead just got on with life as he always had, just at a slower pace. I think that that is what I will try to do, just get on with life at a slower pace and to look at this moment, right now, as being all there is, for this too, shall pass.