A Couple Thoughts on Old Age and What Follows It

"FYI Monsignor Beebe's estate sale tonight," texted my friend Christy this morning to our group text. Christy is an inveterate estate sale shopper and keeps abreast of the sales around town. This one would be at our former teacher's condo.

Msgr. Charles Beebe was a priest of the Diocese of Peoria. One of his many assignments was at my high school the Academy of Our Lady/Spalding Institute, where I was fortunate to have him as a religion teacher in 1977. Up until I had him for "Jesus and the New Testament," I had found religion class boring. Teaching/learning religion is kind of a strange thing, right? Are we supposed to learn a body of knowledge, a set of beliefs, practices to follow? Not sure, but the classes I had previously left me less than inspired. 

I can't remember any of the details about Msgr's class, but I do remember that it was interesting and that Msgr. Beebe was a good teacher. Perhaps it was because the class was about Jesus. Whatever the reason, I was surprised I liked the class, and I wanted to learn more. 

I don't think I had a conversation with Msgr. Beebe again until sometime around 2017. I was volunteering at the convent of the Heading Avenue Franciscans, answering the phone and greeting people at the door. Msgr. Beebe would celebrate Mass for the Sisters. We would chat about our travels. I was getting ready to go on a pilgrimage to Greece, in the Footsteps of St. Paul and Msgr. had been on a similar trip. It was always good to talk with him. As the months and years went on, some health problems he had worsened. His poor health isolated him, and I think, living by himself, I think he was lonely. He died on January 25, 2025. Here is his obituary. 

Yesterday, my mom told me, "I think I saw the obituary for the man at Buehler who was always trying to get out the door." I knew immediately who she was talking about. When I would buzz myself in or out of the unit to visit my dad, I would always check to make sure this gentleman was not by the door. Sometimes he would be waiting there in his wheelchair, always sporting a baseball cap. Even though he was wheelchair bound, he could propel himself around with his feet. It was clear that he had dementia. I wish I would have taken a moment to speak with him but my primary concern was that he not get out the door. 

I read his obituary and though the picture was taken a few decades ago, it was clear it was the gentleman from Buehler. As I read the account of his life, I felt humbled. He had grown up in foster care and had gone on to have a very accomplished life, earning a masters degree, working as an educator and coach, and serving at the end of his career as a principal of a Catholic grade school. He was married for over 60 years and had four children. I'm sure this is the way that his family and friends thought of him and not as the man who was at the health center at Buehler. I wish I (we) could know the life stories of the people who reside in nursing homes. We owe it to them and to ourselves. 

All of Msgr. Beebe's worldly possessions were laid out in his condo, which was crowded with people. For a single, male--a priest--he had a lot of stuff. I bought two bags of Christmas ornaments, one to share with. my son and his new wife, and an icon to give one of the Heading Avenue Franciscans who likes them. 

I'm trying to tie up this little essay with a profound thought. I guess the big message for me is that we need to spend time with older folks and appreciate all they have done for us.

Photo from Catholic Post of Msgr. Beebe in front of the Spalding Institute building.