TJ Ray

By TJ Ray

Columnist

 

After the fellow pushed his cart past mine in the grocery store and turned down another aisle, his name suddenly came to mind. Most likely 10 years had passed since I last saw him. With no small amount of shock, I paused. 

Stout, stocky, well kept and happy is my memory of his earlier self. When he crossed the campus, he was brisk and purposeful in his stride. An encounter with him usually meant a smile and a handshake. No longer. 

His body is now quite thin, though not frail. His movement down the aisle was deliberate, almost as though the cart was pulling him. Happy he might still be, but there was no sign of it on his haggard face. And there was no greeting and handshake. There was, in point of fact, no recognition. 

While we had been in different schools at the University, we met in the Student Union for coffee often, sharing our quite varied experiences on campus. For him not to know who I was in the grocery store baffled me. But then another mild shock made me stop my cart as it occurred to me that I might well be the one who has changed so much. 

Do we change without knowing it? Not just a few hairs in the comb. Nor eyes that require thicker lenses. We see ourselves in the mirror each day and are thus spared the shock of a 10-year Before and After moment. 

How benign that ignorance of our metamorphosis is can only be imagined — and appreciated. At a ripe old 86, I still see a college kid in the mirror — granted with a larger belly and whiter hair. But when I see the gray heads around me, I think of them as old folks, senior citizens, my elders. 

This has nothing to do with dates on birth certificates. It has everything to do with an unconscious defense mechanism we all carry: it can happen to them but not to me. 

When famous people pass away, the media haul out images of them over their lifetimes. How sad that we can’t continue to see them in our minds as strong, beautiful, and happy. 

Why must we be forced to so graphically confront the passing of time? Ah, well, I can’t change that. I’m off to Kroger to buy some hair coloring. 

And as the great poet T. S. Eliot said, “There will be time, there will be time, To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet…”