My first months as an old person could be divided into two periods.
The first four months included the ups and downs, the fevers and chills of shock and depression. It was during that period that I went through many emotional trials, even not wanting to say Mass.
The second four months I spent in Australia with my brother and sister deliberately going very slow, planning my future life with the help of articles on advice for new oldies. Such a massive amount of stuff is being written about growing old gracefully. It's a real gold mine for many writers.
I compared myself a lot with my relatives and friends. They are so honest. They just see the human me and sometimes they are not impressed. On the human level without any effort they would put me to shame.
One thing I realized was that the role of `being a priest' had often blinded me to seeing my real self. Seven years training to become a priest, followed by years of trying to be a good one and staying one, had somehow twisted my thinking. Somewhere along the line I had begun to think of myself as being a priest, a privileged person, a man apart - that was all true. But the idea that I was different, that I was the gift, the charism, that I was the priest became strong and that idea was not true. Living with relatives enabled me to see the truth very clearly. My priesthood is rooted in Christ. It is His priesthood. And I am the weak, human, and now frail vessel that the treasure, Christ, the Eternal Priest, resides in.
Another truth they helped me realize through their attitude towards the Mass and Sacraments was that there is no such thing as an old priest. there are many old men who are priests, but their priestly power never ages. There is no retirement age for the priest. He is a priest forever.
So I am an old man who can still release the full dynamic power of Christ's priesthood to heal the wounds of human society.
Dr. Kubler-Ross listed the stages people pass through when facing death. Looking back I think I have faced similar stages when facing old age.
Denial
I never admitted that I was old, even though the doctor said "considering your age, aches and pains are to be expected," and in trains people directed me towards the Silver Seats reserved for the aged, and my mates joked 'You're not a chicken any more.' Yet at times when in groups looking around and seeing the youthfulness of others I had my doubts, 'Maybe I am getting old.'
Anger
I felt frustration when I could no longer rush here and there as I once did, when I forgot things more often, when I got more impatient with the Japanese language and the Japanese way of thinking and doing things. Little things bugged me. They didn't use to.
Bargaining
My refusal to let go, my wanting to be in charge of my own plans is evident in my experience writing my book.
Depression
I had enough of that too even to the extent of not wanting to celebrate Mass!
Acceptance
I'm still on my way to accepting that I can't do what I used to do. My old age is not an addendum to life, nor a preface to death. It is life here and now for me. I can now love stronger. I can pray deeper. I think more often about God. I don't use as many words as I used to. Jesus may be saying, "Shut up! I can say it all better than you." I find that He prays with me, in and through me even if I sometimes doze off!
Fr Kevin Flinn went to Japan as a volunteer priest from Australia and worked in the Nagasaki diocese. After five years he returned to Australia, joined the Columbans and returned to Japan as a missionary. Fr Flinn died in Japan.