The most effective antiaging solution
is a heart free from bitterness.
A calm and undisturbed mind and heart are the life and health of the body, but envy, jealousy, and wrath are like rottenness of the bones,” reads Proverbs 14:30 (AMPC).
Traci posted to social media: “My ninety-one-year-old grandmother got called for jury duty. At ninety-one, she’s pretty judgmental, so she’d be tough on crime. At ninety-one, she’s also not likely to remember what the case is about and just vote against whoever has hair hanging in their eyes.”
Movies, cartoons, and comedy routines have been built on the concept of grumpy old men and grumpy old women. The audience laughs . . . unless the grumpy one, the embittered one, is Mom or Dad.
The adult child stands outside his parents’ home, turns to his wife, takes a deep breath, and says, “Cover me. I’m going in.” Into the war zone, the toxic battleground where old wounds remain infected long after infliction.
“Mom’s bitterness over past hurts is destroying what may well be our final years together,” Dan said. “With little else on which to focus these days, her anger over the way my father treated her has taken over as her reason for living. They divorced forty years ago. He’s in a nursing home six states away. They haven’t communicated since the day they signed the papers. But she never divorced herself from the resentment.”
“Dad has something negative to say about every single thing that happens in his day,” Vince mourned. “He hates this. He hates that. If I visit him, I get blasted for not having visited sooner. His food is too hot or not hot enough. The room is too warm or too cold, and what are people doing, trying to upset him? That’s his attitude. Mom has given up on him. She ignores it. I can’t imagine living in that toxic atmosphere every day. If anything happens to Mom and Dad’s only option is to move in with my wife and me, I may become a conscientious objector. I’m not a supporter of that war.”
Few things are more beautiful than a man or woman of many years whose face is awash with peace and wisdom, softened by joy despite natural signs of aging. Few things are less attractive than an embittered old person.
“The ridiculous list of things my father finds to complain about would make a good comedy routine for television,” said a son of a grumpy old man, “but it isn’t funny to those of us who live with it.”
Anger says “It’s unfair” or “I can’t control this”—two sentiments laced through many aging lives. The number of injustices, indignities, or decisions outside of an aging parent’s control, the collection of the unfair, demeaning, confusing, or sad accelerates as age advances. Normal activities become pain-riddled, cumbersome, or laborious. Habits or hobbies that brought stress relief disappear.
It’s natural that the unguarded mind would slip into a pattern of focusing on past hurts or complaining about irritants. Natural, but not necessary. Understandable, but not inevitable.
When an infant fusses, a wise parent first investigates whether the distress is legitimate. Is the issue hunger? A wet diaper? Too hot? Too cold? A too-tight collar or a thread wrapped around a toe? Is the child crying out for reassurance of safety?
If the fussing continues, the young mom or dad tries to distract the child, change the environment—Let’s go for a walk—or, as a last resort, let the child fuss it out. We’re told that before the age of three—and some argue even later than that—a tactic of reasoning will fail almost a hundred percent of the time, since the part of the brain that allows for logic and reason is not yet developed.
As many of us age, the reasoning part of the brain retreats. Arguing with an aging parent to get them to stop arguing is futile. Trying to convince them that their bitterness is unfounded, wasted, or long expired may be met by bitterness of greater intensity. Heartbreaking as it is, without divine intervention, a long-held grudge will not “age out” of the system.
Proverbs 15:1 (ISV) reminds us that “A gentle response diverts anger, but a harsh statement incites fury.”
Veteran schoolteachers know that if they lower their voice to almost a whisper when the roomful of students has gotten out of control, they can reclaim quiet out of the chaos. Eventually, the students will calm and lean in to hear what the teacher is saying. The students’ drive to not miss out on something others are hearing is stronger than their drive to continue feeding the chaos.
How does that work when people we care deeply about are the ones caught in a pattern of harsh words, criticism, a long-held grudge or resentment, or anger at the world?
•A soft answer
•A listening ear
•An attempt to understand their viewpoint
•God-fueled patience
•Diversionary tactics
•And when all else fails, let them fuss.
How do we maintain our own peace when our parents are locked in a self-made prison of unforgiveness or anger? Or when the diseases and ailments—even their treatment protocols—make them miserable and miserable to be near?
You may have worked hard to defuse your parents’ anger, unsuccessfully. In the process, tension registered as knots in your neck muscles and a perpetual ache in your stomach. Peace has a chance when we refuse to be drawn into the fray, when we focus our attention on slow, steady breaths and on drawing our peace not from the atmosphere around us but from the unflappable, inexhaustible peace Christ gives. He doesn’t dole out peace. He is our peace (Ephesians 2:14 ISV).
Ultimately, even in old age, our parents are to answer to God for their irritable attitude, not to us. And in this, as in a host of other issues related to loving an aging parent, prayer is not our last resort but, instead, our primary influencer for change.
“My mom was not a bitter woman,” Tricia said, “despite all she endured, despite losing my sister to a homicide. The man who committed that crime was released near the time of my mother’s last days. The rest of the family gritted our teeth and grumbled as the prisoner’s time behind bars drew to an end. Mother told me, ‘Tricia, I think it’s time for me—for all of us—to let that go.’ ”
That kind of peace, the letting-go kind, comes through prayer and active faith.
Jesus, calm my parent’s soul.
Wrap him, wrap her
In your swaddling embrace
Where the comfort is so strong
And the hold so secure
That they can’t remember
The sting of irritants.
May they recall
How You answered their need
And forget
All but the warmth
Of Your love
And mine.