Missed Senior Moments

There are some senior moments that seniors will never experience. This is regrettable but alas, there is nothing we can do about it.

Recently we attended a symphony concert which featured as the finale Franz Shubert’s (1797-1828) Symphony in C, "The Great," D.944. Being a lover of music hardly qualifies one as being an expert. Therefore, I have no idea what the D.944 is but I can agree that this symphony was well performed as well as well received. Whether the standing ovation was for the composer or the conductor (and orchestra) I am not sure. Probably both.

Knowing something about the composer and his composition helps our appreciation even more. The program was lavish in praise of Shubert as was the newspaper review the following day. The program notes reminded us that Franz was only 31 when he died so tragically, so prematurely. Regrettably, he didn’t live to hear his latest compositions played. Here is what the Notes said:

"The  Great" C-major Symphony, [discovered] by Robert Schumann in the house of Schubert’s brother years after Schubert’s death, was first performed publicly in March, 1839, conducted by Mendelssohn at the Leipzig Gewandhaus. Even then audiences were not ready for Schubertian heroics, and the symphony had to wait another century to find general acceptance and huge affection.

Countless seniors have made an impression on those younger who will not appreciate these impressions until too late. A great grandfather took his great grandson aside and warned him rather unceremoniously about his abuse of drugs. After shrugging off other admonitions for years, his great grandfather’s disturbing remarks finally hit home but too late to thank his deceased benefactor. There was a significant senior moment missed as  the great grandfather would have been delighted in the now drug-free grandson.

Multiply this many times and we can see how many potential senior moments have been missed. Does this, however, excuse us from doing our job? Hardly. Schubert worked almost in desperation during his final year to compose what was lurking deep within him. Suppose he had instead curled up in a fetal position begging the grim reaper to remove him from his agony. The world would have been infinitely impoverished but not know it.

This ought to encourage us to live out our years to the fullest, not knowing what legacy we might leave behind. An encouraging word to a despondent teenage granddaughter, a five-dollar bill sent to a non-deserving bratty child who lost a baby tooth, a tearful reprimand to a hostile teen and a long letter to a college freshman overwhelmed by it all.

What we have done in our first 70 years or so is done, for good or ill. But what we do from now on may not erase the bad but chances are good that it will bear fruit even after we’re gone. Like Schubert, we may have something deep within us worth sharing. It may kill us unearthing it, but the world will be better if we do.

We may have no idea what this might be but that matters not. What matters most is that we never give up on being a positive influence on those dear to us (and even those not so dear). In so doing, however, don’t do it with the expectation of it being a belated positive senior moment. Let the moment take its own course.