End of the world? Not quite
Editor’s note: This is another in a series of occasional columns by long-time Ann Arbor resident Robert Faber on what he describes as his most recently acquired area of expertise - growing old.
The “end of the world” has come and gone once again, and we seem not to be much the worse for wear. Of course, that doesn’t mean that it won’t happen again and its ultimate success could be a terrible inconvenience, but even then we should not just quit.
In one way or another it happens all the time — reappearing each time in a variety of disguises reflecting a broad range of widely different trauma. But as with many such ordeals, the level of shock it generates depends on the welcome — or rejection — it receives from its victims.
I think of my father, for example, whose remarkably hard and thankless childhood marked him as a perfect candidate for the end of the world. His barren, loveless early years as a stepchild ignored by his stepfather and cruelly targeted by his stepbrothers was a plot straight out of Dickens.
Until, that is, he married the girl of his dreams — my mother. Together the two of them opened a small business, had three children, and, for the first time, this enabled him to enjoy some degree of social success and independence and pride.
It's difficult to predict what the future might bring, but we all have the ability to make change and overcome adversity.
Steve Pepple | for AnnArbor.com.
Then the Depression hit. He lost it all — his house, his business, his pride — all of the ego-energizing evidence of his success. He was distraught. He was left with nothing — except my mother, the eternal, irrational optimist.
Somehow with her confidence, her skills, her hard work and her husband, they were able to get a few bucks together and try again. It worked, and they survived happily and productively for many decades more.
More stunning and inspiring is the experience and reaction of British theoretical physicist and cosmologist, Stephen Hawking. At age 21, at the start of a promising career as a professor of mathematics, he came down with ALS (Lou Gehrig’s Disease), a condition that destroys nerve cells in the brain and spinal cord, leaving its victim paralyzed in both voice and movement until permanently silenced by a much too early death.
Now, Hawking, 48 years later, totally paralyzed, able to speak only through a computer voice simulator activated by twitching a cheek muscle, still writes, teaches, lectures and is highly revered in the worlds of physics and cosmology.
And after all these years of immobility, without a voice to express his thoughts or arms to express his enthusiasm or even a wink to express his humor — although he does manage a small smile to express his pleasures — he still has thoughts of advice for those similarly afflicted, either by ALS or other such debilitating diseases: “My advice to other disabled people would be, concentrate on things your disability doesn’t prevent you doing well, and don’t regret the things it interferes with. Don’t be disabled in spirit, as well as physically.”
Predicting the future is even more difficult than understanding the present, so foreseeing the “end of the world” is not an easy task. After 13 billion years, the world is still reeling from the effects of The Big Bang, so it is hardly surprising that it might finally be fading.
But if the determination and perseverance of the many millions of blighted or bedeviled counterparts of my father throughout the world who still fight and occasionally emerge victorious, and if even those relatively few shining stars like Stephen Hawking, can overcome their indescribably debilitating handicaps to advance the scientific skills of the world to such astonishingly new horizons, then the end of the world can probably be kept at bay for at least a little longer.
The world seems to be going along pretty well at the moment, but it is still filled with its conflicts and controversies, with its treasures and tragedies — and its very uncertain future.
Nevertheless, if the same fighting spirit shown by my parents is mirrored by even some small percentage of those many millions of oppressed people worldwide, then overcoming those pending tragedies — however limited — is a victory to be celebrated by us all.
And if that determination holds as well for the Steve Hawkings who produce the intellectual needs of society well into their debilitating old age, that evidence of strength should keep our world going for more than a bit longer.
For seniors, the end of life is the end of the world, of their world, but even a modest postponement can be much more than a minor victory. Down the road, of course, we will all have to quit the race, but until then the magnitude of those small victories has a role in the way the world operates.
In much the same way that my father fought to regain his losses and his pride, and that Stephen Hawking struggled — successfully — to continue his scientific advances, many seniors nearing the end of their existence can often, by fighting back, change the nature or timing of the process.
The future of the world is not truly dependent on the nature and outcome of these personal struggles, of course, but for many seniors nearing the end of their tenure, it is not overreaching to recall the words of America’s resident philosopher, Yogi Bera, who once noted that “it ain’t over ‘til it’s over.”
Bob Faber has been a resident of Ann Arbor since 1954. He and his wife, Eunice, owned a fabric store and later a travel agency. He served a couple of terms on the Ann Arbor City Council. He may be reached at rgfaber@comcast.net.