Let's Talk About ... the passage of time and passing time

I taught myself how to read when I was very young and from that moment on I was a voracious reader. I loved reading and being absorbed in stories and meeting all kinds of people through books and having a window into their lives. It was an escape I needed from constant bullying and abuse at school and at home and it kept me going, it gave me something beyond myself and my world.

I don’t remember most of the books I read in my childhood but a few are permanently imprinted on me. One is “A Lantern in Her Hand” by Bess Streeter Aldrich. It was published in 1928 and I read it in the 1960’s so it was already dated by then. The book is about Abbie, a character that the author based on her mother, and describes her life starting after the Civil War when she settles and lives in the Nebraska plains with her new husband. She leaves behind a possible life devoted to her main passion of singing, and her voice was good enough that she could have had a singing career.

The novel has a Little House on the Prairie path in that it describes their struggles working the land and surviving through farming. It emphasizes how Abbie devoted herself to raising their children. The children grow up and they all move away as none of them want to be farmers like their father and they see a world full of opportunities. At the end of the book, Abbie looks back at her life and finally realizes how she gave up her passion and identity for her children. She tries to sing but finds she has lost her beautiful, perfect voice; it is permanently gone.

What affected me as a child was understanding that that Abbie had lost herself. She had a passion that was her identity and she chose to walk away from that. The book ends with the message that Abbie’s contribution to the world was her children and she can live vicariously through her children (after all, this was written by the daughter about her mother). I rejected that message even though I wasn’t even a teenager yet. That’s why I remember reading the book and my strong reaction to it. I became very emotional reading how Abbie stood outside, alone on the farm, and realized her voice was literally gone. I had read about all her challenges through poverty and struggles through decades. Then at the end of her life I felt her sense of emptiness and loss at who she was after enduring all of that. Even though I was a child, I felt the passage of time through Abbie’s life. It was hard for me to accept that all that time could pass, decades of life, an entire life, and it would end with only emptiness.

I realize now that reading novels like “A Lantern in Her Hand” shaped me in ways I never before understood. I decided at the end of my 20’s that I did not want to be a mother. Maybe that’s because I could see Abbie’s sacrifice in the lives of the women I knew at that time who became mothers. Every 10 years I would switch my life onto a different path, first through making different career choices and then through exploring all kinds of new things once I retired. It was really all one path that I forged to find myself and become someone who I wanted to be and to be myself without limits.

Of course, in the corporate world being defined by others is inescapable. Unfortunately too many feel threatened by someone striving to go beyond the baseline and reaching their full potential. That’s one of the reasons I retired so young. It was the only way I could find out what I could accomplish on my own terms.

And now I am 65 years old and I feel the passage of time. I think about those I knew over the course of my life and become curious what paths they chose. I wonder what time has done to them, has it been kind or cruel. There are those who are exactly what they were when I knew them back in the 1980’s or 90’s or 2000’s. One of the main lessons from looking back is that people stay the same. As the saying goes, people don’t change, they reveal themselves.

Most people are joyful having lives raising children and having domesticity and living a life that I decided was not for me. They haven’t had the need to create an independent path to find themselves like I have had. Maybe that’s because I was unable for many reasons to truly explore what I could do and be during my childhood. I was withdrawn within myself to protect myself and was never encouraged to do more than that or be more than that. It takes a shitload of time to shed that protective skin and to heal from the inside out. It takes an effort that can go on for decades, sometimes a lifetime.

And so I have spent time over the decades working towards this goal of knowing myself and being myself with full confidence. But there comes a point when it becomes unavoidably clear that this journey has an end. Mortality becomes palpable. I think I felt this in my reaction as a child to “A Lantern in Her Hand” even if I didn’t understand it. Time is limited and, to paraphrase Mary Oliver, what have you done with your one precious life?

Time passes and we have to decide for ourselves what we want our lives to be, what for each of us is experiencing life through that time. I feel right now that I am ready, for the first time, to simply pass the time. I have never done that before or chosen that before but now it feels right. Part of this is finally accepting that being in the moment without the pressure to achieve is also experiencing life.

I keep thinking that maybe it’s time to come full circle. Maybe right now I need to withdraw into myself like when I was a child. Perhaps what I need is to read books and contemplate and observe the world rather than push myself to take action and engage to try to change or save it. I have no idea how much longer my journey will be. I have good genes; my grandparents and father lived until their late 80’s and even 90, and my mother died in her early 80’s. So maybe I can give myself a break from the pressure to feel responsible to engage and achieve for now. I don’t have to feel that somehow I am breaking a rule. I won’t spend each day being focused on accomplishing as much as possible so that I can feel like I am living to my potential. I can be content with simply passing time in the company of my dogs, reading and watching movies and sipping tea and just being. Let’s see how that goes.

 

Let’s talk about … the choices we make

Mar 10, 2025

Photo by Sage Friedman

There was a family friend who was incredibly stubborn. He was elderly with many health problems and while he was a man of means and could afford any type of assistance, he refused any help. He demanded that the only person who would be allowed to care for him was his wife, who was also elderly.

One night he got out of bed without asking for assistance. He fell, hit his head on a table and developed a brain bleed. He died not long after this. I told my dad, who was elderly also, that I would not allow him to be stubborn like this. If he needed help, he was going to get it. My father just looked at me and laughed.

My father lived alone and was retired. He lived on frozen dinners and refused my request to sign him up for a fresh meal service. For years I told him over and over that he needed assistance and he refused, being just as stubborn as the family friend. My father was also a man of means and could afford assistance but still refused. Then, early one morning, while I was getting ready for work, my phone rang. It was my father. He had fallen during the night and was unable to move. While lying on the floor he was able to reach over to a table, pull the phone off the table and call me.

I called out from work, drove over to his house, made sure he was stable and immediately called the paramedics. While I followed the ambulance to the emergency room, I was on the phone with a home health agency that I was familiar with and arranged for a caregiver to begin taking care of my father that evening and for permanent 24-hour attendants.

As my father lay on a gurney in the hallway of the ER, I told him, with a pleasant and kind demeanor, that he had a choice. He could go to an assisted living facility or he could have 24-hour home care. I asked what he preferred, and he said the home care.

 

I think about these memories as I think about the tragic deaths of Gene Hackman and his wife Betsy Arakawa. Something struck me as more information was obtained and shared. They had both been dead for quite some time before their bodies were discovered by a security guard who saw them through a window. I thought, was there no housekeeper to help Betsy maintain the house? No one to help cook their meals or clean or do some shopping or handle any of the burden of caring for an elderly man with dementia? Alzheimer’s doesn’t just affect the brain; it causes deterioration of the entire body. Was Betsy handling his complex physical and healthcare needs plus caring for three dogs, one of which just had surgery?

Betsy died of hantavirus which comes from exposure to rat droppings. Did she try to clean them by herself? She died around February 11th, he likely died on February 17th and it wasn’t until February 26th that a pest control worker came on a regularly scheduled visit and because he was unable to reach them, a security guard checked on them.

When she became ill, why didn’t she seek treatment?

I read these comments about Betsy in the media: “While speaking to the New York Times, Tom Allin, who had been friends with Hackman for around 20 years, insisted The French Connection star “seemed happy” to have his wife “run things” and take care of him.

“She was very protective of him,” Allin told the outlet, adding that Hackman had said he probably would have died “long ago” without the care of his beloved wife, who looked after him and made sure he had a healthy diet.”

Betsy was 65 years old and had lived with Gene since she was in her 20’s. Taking care of him was her life, according to friends and family. Was she unable to accept that things had changed and she couldn’t do that all by herself? Would sharing the burden meant that she was sacrificing part or all of her identity?

Here is a comment by a physician to CNN: “It’s unclear whether Arakawa was his primary caregiver or if Hackman had other caregivers. If Arakawa was his principal caregiver, “she would be responsible for giving Mr. Hackman his medications, for cleaning him, for helping him to the bathroom and for feeding him,” Reiner said. With Arakawa’s sudden death, “one can see how, sadly, that could lead to his death,” he said.”

We make choices. We believe that our choices are correct but sometimes they are made out of pride and fragility and stubbornness and result in tragedy.

 

I thought of a documentary I saw years ago about a woman who drove the wrong way on the Jersey Turnpike and caused 8 deaths including her own. The film asked why did this tragedy happen?

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Trck8tVtYyo

The filmmaker knows that there are no definitive answers, just like we won’t get final answers about what happened to Hackman and Arakawa. However, the portrait of Diane Schuler, the wrong way driver, shows a woman obsessed with being perfect in every way. She was the one whose kids were immaculate, who was perfect at work, who had the best dish at the pot luck every time and so on. The stress of pushing herself to maintain this standard caused her to self-medicate. When she had a tooth abscess that needed immediate attention, she decided she didn’t have the time to go to the dentist. Something in her life would then have been less than perfect and that was unacceptable. So, because of the dental pain, she took the self-medication to an unmonitored and dangerous level. And as she was driving the wrong way at 70 miles per hour with a minivan full of kids, one of the kids called her parent and screamed, “there’s something wrong with Aunt Diane”.

I wonder if Betsy decided that taking care of everything to do with her husband and home was her identity as well. It appears that Gene’s children and other family members hadn’t contacted them in months and certainly weren’t checking on them. Family dynamics are a complicated, intricate and unique thing for every family. To completely check out of the life of a fragile and vulnerable 95-year-old with Alzheimer’s means his children’s ties were minimal at best. I won’t judge anyone as to how they interact with family as none of us know what happens in a family. But it is clear that things had evolved into Betsy being the sole caregiver, sole caretaker and sole contact. And that is never going to result in a good ending.

The bigger question that I have arrived at is – is this a choice that some women are often forced to make, to be perfect and “have it all” and handle it all no matter what the consequences? The documentary shows that Diane Schuler had, to put it kindly, a less than supportive husband who didn’t want kids and just wanted a wife who would take care of him. He wanted her perfectionism as that meant he didn’t have to deal with the burden and turmoil of life.

Was Betsy’s behavior similar to Diane’s? Gene “seemed happy to let his wife run things and take care of him.” Are women finding themselves in a way of life where all the burden is on them, all the responsibilities no matter how numerous and complex, and there is no way out? Are they deciding that for whatever reason they don’t want a way out?

Are we even aware that this is the choice we have made and that there are other choices, other options? I know this question has been asked many times in many ways by people much more experienced with these issues. But these deaths make this question so real and tragic and heartbreaking. It happens to a suburban wife and mother, and it happens to the wife of one of the most renowned actors that ever lived.

I will always wonder why Betsy didn’t have a house cleaner, or caregiver, or cook, or assistant, or anyone, just anyone, to help her with everything she had. I will always wonder why that was her choice.

3/10/25