• 
• 

December 2001

The Director - Departments

Grief Relief

For the Widowed

In his book, The Virtues of Aging, former President Jimmy Carter writes about the remarkable life of his mother, "Miss Lillian." When her husband died in 1953, Miss Lillian was widowed at age 55. After a period of bereavement, she decided that there had to be more to life than staying at home, so she investigated opportunities for a 55-year-old widow. First, she worked as a housemother to 95 energetic Kappa Alpha fraternity students at Auburn University. "For six years, she was their protector, confidante, loan and bail officer, and personal counselor," President Carter writes. Next, she helped friends open and manage a new nursing home in Blakely, Georgia. After a few years, she became tired of "being with old folks" and returned to Plains, Georgia. She soon saw a television advertisement for Peace Corps volunteers that declared there was no age limit. So, at 68, she finished her training and was sent to a small town near Bombay, India, where she served for two years. Returning home, Miss Lillian made more than 500 speeches describing her experiences and encouraging her audiences not to let old age be a limit on their lives. President Carter says that after her husband's death, his mother "continued to age for thirty more years but never grew old. At the age of eighty-five she was still full of life, never failing to wake up in the morning with determination to make the new day an adventure." There is this important lesson from Miss Lillian's experience: Let the pain of grief motivate you into accepting new challenges and new ways of thinking, acting and living. Grievers, especially those in the "senior" years (defined by AARP as those over 50) can do their grieving while simultaneously being open to new opportunities in life. Consider the following example of this senior citizen. After several years of trying to persuade grocers to carry his new brand of popcorn, called Red Bow, the creator was deeply discouraged. "Was I, at the age of 63, pursuing a foolish dream?" he wondered as he drove gloomily back to his Valparaiso, Indiana, office. Were his many years of researching, cultivating and perfecting the new, better-popping corn leading him to a marketing dead end, he wondered. Whenever he approached a retailer, their comments were always the same: "There are over 80 different brands of popcorn on the market. We don't have room for another, especially when it costs two and a half times as much." Although every response from retailers to his new product was disheartening, the man decided to try yet another approach. This time he asked around for the name of a good marketing company and was directed to a firm in Chicago, Illinois. After describing his new popping corn to the copywriters, they recommended he market the product as Orville Redenbacher's Gourmet Popping Corn. In addition, his picture should be featured on the label. "I drove back to Valparaiso wryly thinking we had paid $13,000 for someone to come up with the same name my mother had come up with when I was born," Redenbacher recalls thinking that day in 1970. Still uncertain about their advice, Redenbacher decided to test-market their idea. He approached the largest retailer in the Midwest—Marshall Field's department store in Chicago. After learning the name of the manager of their seventh-floor gourmet food department, Redenbacher sent a case of the newly labeled product to his home. Redenbacher did not enclose a note or a return address. A month later, he phoned and asked: "Did you like it?" "Like it?" the manager responded. "We want to stock it!" Excited by his first order, Redenbacher loaded it into his pickup truck and personally delivered it to Marshall Field's huge store on State and Randolph streets in Chicago. As an additional marketing ploy, he offered to autograph jars of the popcorn. Marshall Field's executives liked the idea and began heavily promoting the popcorn in newspaper ads. Redenbacher spent three full days getting writer's cramp. Today, Orville Redenbacher's product is the best-selling popcorn in the world. His success began, however, as he reached the age when most people think about retiring. Although he could be called a late bloomer, Orville Redenbacher and many others like him are living proof that it is never too late to start an adventure. Widows and widowers can stimulate their thoughts and hopes by remembering that they are never too old. Attitude is ageless. Our attitudes are capable of determining whether we will go forward or retreat, continue or quit, remain open to new opportunities or remain frozen in the past. To achieve success, whatever your age, begin by remembering that you are never too old to succeed. History is filled with "old" people who accomplished great things. Bereaved widows and widowers can motivate themselves by reviewing the lives of people such as:

Winston Churchill, who became British prime minister for the first time at age 65 and assumed the epic struggle against Hitler.

Golda Meir, who became prime minister of Israel at 71.

Cardinal Angelo Roncalli, who became Pope John XXIII at the age of 76 and initiated major changes in the Roman Catholic Church.

Grandma Moses, who started painting in her late 70s and had her first one-woman exhibit when she was 80.

Margaret Thatcher, who became Great Britain's first female prime minister at age 53.

Sadie and Bessie Delany, who wrote their first book when they were 105 and 103, respectively. Titled The Delany Sisters Book of Everyday Wisdom, it was a best seller.

Samuel I. Hayakawa, who was elected to the United States Senate at age 70. The example of such individuals ought to remind the widowed that many good years may still be in the future. Victor M. Parachin, Tulsa, OK, is an NFDA grief educator and author of the new book, Healing Grief. Funeral homes may purchase bulk quantities of this book at a trade discount by calling Chalice Press at 800-451-5359. Send comments and questions to This e-mail address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it .