How does one move into the late stage of life with our dignity intact?
I have learned that this is not a state that one can create entirely independently. Rather, it is a delicate dance between willing, caring, compassionate co-creators of a social contract. I have seen rare, but beautiful examples such as one memorable afternoon in a small San Francisco diner.
I remember watching as a small, elderly woman walked into the little dining room, dignified and graceful, with just a slight tremor in her bird-like hands. Her circa 1950 camel’s hair coat hung from her shoulders as if it had fitted a more robust frame a quarter century ago. The waitress, with a cheerful (and perhaps a tad patronizing) smile, took her coat from her shoulders and offered to hang it on the hook at the end of the red leather booth. However, she declined, asking to hold it beside her. Then, the object of my fascination slid carefully into her seat, gently smoothing her beautifully tailored navy suit – an ancient Chanel perhaps? I heard her order a cup of soup and some coffee and then she turned her attention to studying a small notebook that she brought with her.
So, I did the same, turning my mind back to my own lukewarm coffee and my laptop full of half completed ‘to-do’ lists. I only half noticed when the waitress brought a large basket of rolls and butter to her table.
Then, moments later, a movement caught my eye. Peering as inconspicuously as I could, I watched with my head bowed in mock attention to my own table. I saw her hand, deftly and quickly slip a roll into the pocket of her coat. I was riveted. A few minutes later, it happened again. All the while she nibbled daintily on one roll that sat on her plate, divided into a dozen tiny pieces. When the waitress brought her soup, I noticed that rather than the cup she had ordered, a large bowl arrived, along with a fresh batch of rolls, as the original was almost finished, or rather, disappeared.
Once again the rolls slipped from the basket and found their way to various pockets and cuffs. When the soup was gone, the waitress announced to her guest that the cook had made far too much carrot cake and was wondering if she would like a piece, on the house. (No such offer was made to me, even though I was putting on my best forlorn look.) What arrived was a massive slice of gooey heaven, far too big for 3 or 4 of me, let alone the delicate wee bird across the aisle. She smiled sweetly and said all of the appropriate ‘Oh my’ statements, with her hand fluttering across her chest. She took a few tiny bites and the waitress promptly returned with a box.
As she was leaving, she slowly stood, carefully draped her now laden coat across her arm, left just enough money for one cup of soup and a cup of coffee and made her way across to the door. The waitresses all nodded and waived goodbye and the cook called out from the kitchen to enjoy her day. She walked with her back straight and her head high. She waved, delicately, like the Queen of England from her carriage – a mere swish of her hand.
This was transition with dignity in action. Here I saw a small, close-knit community pulling together in a simple way to allow a woman to salvage her dignity and continue to walk through the world with her head high. She didn’t need to beg or complain because others were empathetic, kind and willing to help in a way that allowed all of the players to contribute. No one asked for recognition of their kindness, no egos got involved in the well-rehearsed dance.
I left the diner that day with a new definition of dignity and a new definition of compassion. This has formed the basis of my philosophy in working with transitioning leaders. Part of my role is to co-create an environment of willing participants – each committed to allowing the aging leader the freedom and grace to walk forward, with their legacy and dignity intact.
Keith Mayeaux
Lisë,
So beautifully written – you should have been an author. Thanks for the wonderful picture of what a dignified transition can look like. All the players playing their part to allow the elder generation to transition as they wish. You never cease to amaze me! Thank you for sharing. ~Keith
Lise
Thanks Keith… the memory has stayed with me a long time, so it is wonderful to finally have a community with which to share! Lise
Melissa Kelly-McCabe
Wow. What a lovely story. i am so impacted by your words. May we all support the dignity in others – and ourselves. Thank you.
Lise
Thanks Melissa! I love the way that we have been able to incorporate so many aspects of the ‘transition with dignity’ into our Cirque du Sophia work… feels like we are spreading such a powerful message.
Lise
Pam Hayes
What a blessing this morning. Thank you for sharing and for the encouragement to slow down long enough to learn from those around us.
Lise
I am glad that this hit home Pam… I know that your parents are aging too and that they are lucky to have a daughter that is so compassionate and aware. Lise
Sheila Harvey
Lise,
Thanks for this beautiful story that I really needed to hear today. I, too, am a people watcher and I love to think of the stories of these people’s lives. I have a constant curiousity of what those stories are. I know everyone is going through life and acting and reacting to situations based on lots of “things” going on within them. I love this picture you have given us that reminds us we can help people while maintaining their dignity and ours.
Thank you so much for everything you have done for me and my family and our business.
Lise
I agree – you ARE a people watcher and yes, I think that natural curiosity, tempered with compassion and healthy ego, is a wonderful recipe for healing the world. So glad you are in my life and have all of these attributes in abundance! Lise
Leonard Holler
Thanks so much for this story. If only others could be so kind and generous as those in the diner. That type of caring spirit is lacking in much of the world we live in today. Helping others has always been good for the soul.
Lise
Leonard – so great to hear from you! I agree with you, we need more of this behavior in our world – and we need to be open to observing it when it happens, primed to see more of the good in others rather than focusing so much on that which disappoints us. Thanks so much for weighing in! Lise
Susan Hileman
Loved this… What a beautiful and moving story Lise. It’s amazing how often–when we (I) stop being self-absorbed and begin paying attention–we find ourselves in simple situations which can provide really profound moments of insight. I really liked the connection you made… “She didn’t need to beg or complain because others were empathetic, kind and willing to help in a way that allowed all of the players to contribute.” If only more people were open to living that way. Thanks for sharing.
Susan
Lise Stewart
Hi Susan! Thank you so much for writing… and for your kind words. It is so rewarding/reinforcing to know that sharing these stories helps us all to find common ground – a shared interest in seeing the world become a kinder, gentler place. cheers, Lise
Louise Aitcheson
Lise – Incredible – Powerful. We get so wrapped up on our day-to-day lives, and we often don’t stop long enough to witness or understand what is going on around us. Thank you for sharing and reminding us to enable dignity at every stage of life! Best, Louise
Lise Stewart
Hi Louise! Thanks so much for taking the time to read this and post a comment. It means a lot to me that so many people have found some inspiration in this simple story. It was such a powerful day for me… it is great to be able to share. Cheers! Lise
Deborah Ranier
Lise –
What a beautiful story and how in keeping with who you are that you would see this situation unfold and see the deeper meaning and relevance of this situation to the work you do with your clients. Thank you for sharing this experience with us all.
Deborah