We remember the appointments, groceries, and practicalities, but sometimes it's what isn't on our checklist that matters most.
There are few pleasures quite like having something lovely on the agenda. A lunch next Thursday. A grandchild coming to stay. Tickets for a concert three weeks from now. Even the promise that somebody is turning up on Saturday afternoon armed with cake can cast a surprisingly cheerful glow over the days leading up to it.
Half the fun, after all, is often in the anticipation. We think about where we're going, what we'll wear, who'll be there, and whether we really need dessert when we already know perfectly well that we're going to order it.
Yet as people grow older, those delicious little landmarks in the calendar can become fewer. Retirement removes the rhythm of working life, friends may become less mobile, driving can become difficult, and children and grandchildren are often juggling complicated lives of their own. Nobody deliberately decides that Mom's diary should become emptier; it just happens, one unmade plan at a time.
That's why one of the loveliest things we can give an older person isn't necessarily another scarf, candle, or box of chocolates. Give them a date!
There is a world of difference between "We really must come and see you soon" and "We're coming on Sunday the 23rd and taking you to lunch." The first is an intention. The second can go straight onto the calendar — and suddenly the 23rd has a little circle around it.
Better still, the pleasure begins long before anybody rings the doorbell. There might be an outfit to choose, a restaurant menu to inspect online, a friend to tell about it, or simply the delicious knowledge on Monday morning that Saturday has something rather nice waiting at the end of it. Then afterwards there are photographs to look at and stories to retell. One afternoon can stretch surprisingly far in both directions.
And please don't assume that getting older automatically creates a passion for sedate afternoon tea. Your 87-year-old grandmother may find the idea deadly dull and be far more enthusiastic about singing karaoke, meeting a penguin, taking a spin in a vintage sports car, learning to make sushi, or going to see the decidedly unsuitable comedian she secretly finds hilarious. Ask her.
Something is coming...
Nor does the plan need to be grand. Take Dad to the garden center. Arrange an old film and pizza night. Book a table somewhere he used to love. Promise a drive to see the autumn leaves. Put the grandchildren's school concert in Grandma's diary before anyone has even started rehearsing. If you live hundreds of miles apart, arrange a proper video-call dinner and both order something nice. The point isn't how impressive the occasion looks; it's that something is coming.
There is another reason making future plans with someone matters, and it goes deeper than entertainment. You're not simply checking that they're all right or dutifully fitting in a visit. Every time you say, "Let's do this next month," you're quietly including that person in your future. I want your company. I'm expecting you. We still have things to do together.
Scripture has never treated old age as an awkward epilogue to the interesting part of life. Psalm 92 gives us the wonderful image of those who, even in old age, "shall bear fruit." A person's world may change with age, but their capacity for friendship, laughter, curiosity, anticipation — and occasionally being the last person who wants to leave the party — doesn't simply disappear.
We can become terribly efficient about looking after the older people we love. Is the heating working? Have they got enough groceries? When is the doctor's appointment? Has somebody changed that impossible light bulb at the top of the stairs? All of those things matter enormously, but care shouldn't be confined to keeping life running smoothly. Life needs some sparkle in it too.
So next time you phone an older parent, grandparent, neighbor, or friend, don't only ask what they've been doing. Put something on the agenda. It can be tiny, silly, delicious, or months away, but make it real enough to circle.
And preferably, of course, make sure there's cake.
