The father of one of my friends died recently. He was 98 years old. I can only imagine the changes he saw in the span of those 98 years. As I thought about his life (I have known him casually for 40 years) I was impressed with his ability to command the respect of people of various generations.
Perhaps it was his deep voice or the confidence he exuded when he talked. Actually, I think it came from the interest he showed in people – people of all ages. He had outlived most of his contemporaries. Yet he still had friends.
In contrast, I have conducted funerals for others who had outlived their contemporaries and there were only a handful of people who came to remember and show their respect. I remember feeling sad – not that there weren’t more to pay their respects but that this person must have been lonely in his senior years.
Last year a friend of mine died. I had known him for 40 years. He had been one of my college professors. A few years later we were actually colleagues – serving in similar capacities in different parts of the country. When he retired, we simply became friends – actually I think we became friends a long time ago. He was the same age as my own father but he was one of those men who always took an interest in the next generation. He knew my children and always asked about them and they were sad when he died.
These men remind me of the value of making friends with young people:
To listen instead of insisting on telling “my stories.”
To learn instead of insisting on the “way it used to be” or the “way we did it.”
To ask how they are doing instead of telling of my woes.
To be genuinely interested in their lives instead of being consumed with my own busy-ness.
To be available when my counsel is desired and to not be offended if it is ignored.
To have time for them instead of having a schedule so full they always need an appointment.
I want to be their cheerleader rather than their critic.
