The handsome gentleman pictured above is my dad, Ernst Longenecker. The portrait was taken in the 1940s. I think most everyone who knew him smiles over memories of this man. He was an individual! He was a mechanical engineer by degree, an industrial designer and manager, an inventor, a wonderful father, and a mellow story-teller. Dad had a passion for life. His enthusiasm influenced many people who knew him.
When Dad was 88 years old, I asked him if he attended the Retired Men’s Club at his church. Dad’s answer was classic: “I’m not about to hang around with those old geezers!”
Dad lived until age 102. His last years were marked by an increasingly painful arthritis which slowed him down, physically. But he loved books, and continued reading until just after his 101th birthday. Suddenly his eyes would no longer focus, and the absence of reading broke his heart.
My dad had a pet peeve: people who spoke condescendingly to senior citizens. He used to say (rather vehemently!) “Don’t call me ‘spry‘, and don’t call me ‘sprightly‘! “ My husband and I chuckle every time we mention those words.
Why are some individuals young at 95 and others seem old by the time they reach 60? Health often plays a role, yet I’ve known people with frail health who maintain that life affirming vitality to the very end. Both of my grandmothers were youthful until they died, in their late 80s. One suffered from arthritis (my dad’s mother) and the other had serious cardiac issues. Neither of them let health issues interfere with their joy in living. They were Christian women who knew where they were ultimately going, and had a lot of fun on earth in the meantime.
The common denominator in every person I know of who lives a vibrant old age is PASSION! A passion for some thing, or things, motivates us when everything else hurts. Dad loved travel, and when his body no longer traveled he continued to travel via books. He was passionate about new discoveries and technologies. He read THE WALL STREET JOURNAL assiduously, and he always seemed to know things the rest of us wouldn’t realize until years later. Dad lived on the “cutting edge”.
In the 1950s, when many of us were cluelessly puffing and inhaling away on our cigarettes, Dad began sending me clippings (from the above mentioned news source) linking smoking with lung cancer and other respiratory ailments. While most of my friends were still smoking, I experientially understood the dangers of tobacco. In 1963 I quit smoking and never looked back.
One incident involving my father looms large. When our 1st child was a toddler, she fell against a space heater and burned both hands. Laura’s fingers curled as she screamed with pain. Without hesitating, Dad sprang from his chair, picked Laura up, and rushed to the sink where he poured cold water from the tap on Laura’s hands. He held her hands under the cold water for many minutes. Finally, he turned the water off. Laura was peaceful and comfortable, and her burns never ever blistered. This, in an era where most of us were still putting grease on burns!
In the 1970s, Dad got very excited. He told me that someday infinited amounts of information would be contained in a little “chip” about the size of his thumbnail. Quite frankly, I thought my father had crossed the line into science fiction. But he had such a glow in his eyes, when he talked about an “information revolution”. Today I recall that conversation frequently, whenever I load the photos from my camera chip into my computer, or when Joe’s cardiac technician holds a little disc in front of Joe’s chest where a pace maker/defibrillator is installed to record the activities of his heart.
A passion for living! A passion for learning and a love of creative pursuits—as many as possible for as long as possible! My body is following the course set for me by my dad and his mother. I have inherited the orthopedic issues—disintegrating bones and arthritis which is becoming more pronounced, painful, and physically limiting every year. But I’ve also inherited the passion gene. With books, a computer, a piano, knitting supplies, and art paraphernalia at my finger tips my body doesn’t need to be an athletic wonder.
Meanwhile, I like to dress up in fun and funky attire, drape beads around my neck, and plug the holes—2 in each ear—with gems and dangles. Just this morning, my loving and admiring husband said, “Oh my, you look spry and sprightly!”
I don’t mind those adjectives one bit! 
Margaret L. Been, ©2011
