Tapping Insight (8)
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Listen to Paula and Chloe’s story as you read it (below).
For 30 years, the mahogany china cabinet had dominated the formal dining room, serving as a silent, imposing monument to Paula and Pete’s past.
It held the family legacy: three shelves of fragile, gold-rimmed porcelain, most of it inherited, none of it ever used. Every piece represented a high-stakes effort to maintain a certain image.
Today, however, the cabinet’s solemn dignity was challenged by Chloe, their four-year-old great-granddaughter.
“Look, Nana Paula,” Chloe whispered, pointing a chubby finger through the glass. “It’s like a tiny castle made of flowers.”
Paula, who rarely let anyone within five feet of the cabinet, smiled faintly. She and Pete, both 81, had spent the morning trying to figure out which lawn care service was worth the escalating price.
For Paula, stressing over lawn care service was another example of how complicated their lives had become.
But right now, while watching over Chloe, lawn mowing was not on the top of her mind
“That’s called Limoges, sweetie,” Paula explained, gently guiding Chloe back a step from the cabinet. “It was your great-great-grandmother’s. We keep it safe.”
At that precise moment, Chloe’s small foot caught the edge of the antique Persian rug. She didn’t fall completely, but she swung wide, her hip hitting the corner of the cabinet with a solid thud.
The sound that followed was sharp, delicate, and terminal. The gold-rimmed teacup — the most prized and rarely viewed piece, reserved for the legacy of their eldest son — teetered for a silent moment on the shelf’s edge, then dove. It hit the polished oak floor with a tiny, devastating sound of shattering clay and gilded dust.
Chloe didn’t scream; she crumpled, dissolving into silent, terrified tears.
Pete rushed in from the kitchen, alerted by the sharp crack. His face, before he even saw the mess, was a mask of panic and anger. His immediate, visceral response was focused entirely on the object.
“Chloe! What did you ... Paula, the Limoges!” Pete’s voice was high and tight, instantly calculating the loss of value and the impossibility of replacing the antique.
For years, the status of that china had defined their care of the cabinet and all that was in it. The broken teacup felt like a breach in that family commitment.
But Paula didn’t look at the shards. She looked only at Chloe, whose whole body was shaking with silent terror. Paula wondered if she really realized she had destroyed a piece of her great grandmother’s world.
And then a clear wave of calm washed over Paula. She knelt slowly, placing herself between the weeping child and Pete’s angry, stressed gaze. She picked up a sliver of the shattered gold rim. It felt insignificant — just dust and brittle clay. It was worthless.
She looked up at Pete. He still had that tight, worried crease between his eyebrows, the crease of a man who constantly worried about things. She realized the only reason that teacup had mattered was because they had spent decades convincing themselves it mattered. It was a burden, not a treasure.
“Pete,” she said, her voice softer than usual. “It’s done. It was always just waiting to break.”
Pete paused. He looked from the broken cup to Paula, who was gently wiping a tear from Chloe’s cheek, and finally, to the three shelves of other unloved objects, saved purely for show.
Paula watched Pete struggle with the ridiculousness of it all — the lifelong anxiety over a cup. It was finally hitting him.
He sighed, the tension draining out of his shoulders. “It was just ... a cup.” He took a deep breath. “It was always just a cup.”
Paula leaned back, drawing Chloe close. “We keep things safe,” she murmured, “but some things aren’t worth the stress.”
Later that evening, after Chloe was asleep and the teacup shards were swept away, Paula and Pete made a decision. They decided to sell the entire fragile collection.
The decision wasn’t painful; it was a relief.
Age: Our greatest asset!
Jim Hasse, ABC, GCDF retired, author of “52 Shades of Graying”
Weekly Stories About Aging Well
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After retiring for the third time in 2011, I found not having to watch the clock so closely in terms of getting to online meetings and carrying out a daily routine as an entrepreneur reduced the stress level in my life.
In my case, that was especially true because I’ve always had to double the time normally expected for everyday tasks such as dressing for the day, working at the keyboard and taking time for lunch – all due to living with lifelong cerebral palsy.
I no longer have to plan one step ahead of everyone else on a routine basis. At 82, sleeping until breakfast runs precariously into lunch time when it feels like the right thing to do is a blessing.
* How have you gained less stress in your life now that you have achieved ‘older adult’ status?