We hardly think about it - we, the self-absorbed, self-indulgent Boomer Generation - but it's going to happen. As our parents age and eventually pass on, each of us will be facing the odd realization of being orphans.
We didn't volunteer, but we're about to take one giant step forward toward our own mortality - and in the process perhaps, re-evaluate our place in society. Some will call it an epiphany, for others it's an inevitable generational climb toward the top of Maslow's pyramid.
The Baby Boomers have often been described as the "sandwich generation" - stuck between aging parents and college-age children. More precisely, Boomers have been moving through a "sandwich phase" which is rapidly ending. How do I know? My father, and only remaining parent, died last week. Perhaps sharing some of what I felt in the ensuing days will help - you and me.
Shortly after my father's death, my brother first mentioned that we were now orphans. I think we were both laughing to keep from crying, and we joked that perhaps someone might adopt us - preferably someone with a lot of money. We agreed that the two of us were a package deal and anyone wishing to adopt one would have to take both.
As we dutifully carried out the logistics of dad's last requests, we were following his parental advice for the last time. I think we both knew that as the list got shorter, our time as sons was quickly ending. I admit to a certain fear of completing our tasks, as if finishing would give way to the reality that dad was gone. And that's exactly what happened.
As children loving parents shelter us. We are nurtured and protected - schooled in family history and given our proper place in it. There were my grandparents - the aging patriarchs and guardians of ancient family lure. There were my parents, a personal connection to our family history. And there was me - safely in the middle.
A line drawn through the last item on the list meant facing the reality that my brother and I were no longer safely in the middle. In a matter of days we had been moved to the front of the queue - and everyone behind us had jogged up one notch. In an instant, that lingering feeling of immortality had vanished.
Perhaps this is a coming of age moment for many Boomers. Surely, our generation has been labeled self-indulgent, and it's probably true to a certain extent that we thought we would live forever. But for all of our generation's shortcomings, we have exhibited a passion for change.
In the larger sense, this immutable shift has heightened awareness of my responsibility - responsibility to my own children and responsibility to the larger community. We (the Baby Boomer Generation) have indeed changed our world. Our numbers make us hard to ignore and as we step into our new role we can choose view ourselves as orphans - or hold on to our passion for change, not as parentless children, but as societal patriarchs.
Dad and I had a lifelong, secret, non-verbal code developed in church over 40 years ago. Designed to get the attention of a squirming 5 year old, dad would hold my index finger tightly in his hand and squeeze out a series of messages - to which I would respond. Often he would just tap out a series to see if I could keep up.
But, our secret code has been cracked - Tuesday during visitation at the funeral home, my 20-something son quietly stepped up, slipped his finger into my hand and we said goodbye to my father and his grandfather without a word.
Volumes were spoken.
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