Priceless wisdom and insights
Learning from our elders is the greatest investment we can make.
THEY shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old: age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn. At the going down of the sun and in the morning, we will remember them.
These words are taken from the “Ode of Remembrance” (taken from Laurence Binyon’s poem For the Fallen) which is often read out as part of the annual commemoration of British lives lost during the first two world wars and conflicts since.
Held at 11am, on the eleventh month, on the second Sunday – the Sunday nearest November 11th, marking the end of hostilities during the First World War – a two-minute silence provides a poignant moment of solemn reflection as part of the memorial services.
When I was growing up, I had a keen interest in both world wars. The sheer magnitude of conflict and the territories at stake captivated my attention and I was fascinated by the heroism by all those who signed up to serve for their country.
As I grew older, my focus shifted from the jingoistic patriotism of the “war efforts” and centred on the young soldiers who had put their lives on the line for King and Country. While I respected the courage, strength and bravery of these soldiers, at the same time I felt a heavy sadness that many of these boys – and they were boys – would never return home.
Many years later, I discovered that a veteran of the Second World War lived in my hometown. He had seen action in Russia and Dunkirk, and witnessed the atomic bombing of Hiroshima from his ship at sea.
He was a quiet old man, Tom Rennie. I’ve written before about Tom in this column. I was immediately struck by his cheerful demeanour and positive outlook despite all he had witnessed. As part of the Arctic convoy missions, Tom and his crewmates endured what Winston Churchill called “the worst journey in the world”.
In one of his more humorous tales, Tom would recall that – when taking supplies to Russian allies – the men were warned not to touch the ship’s railings, due to the sub-zero temperatures. Boys being boys, one or two called the Captain’s bluff, and subsequently required boiling water to be pored over their hand to free it from the rails. No one touched the railings a second time.
Initially, I had planned a halfhour interview with Tom for a newspaper story. In the end, I visited Tom on three occasions, spending six hours in total with the bravest man I had ever met. Bravery is one of those words that gets thrown around easily these days. In its truest sense, it was a word meant for men like Tom.
In my time as a journalist and broadcaster in Britain, I met prime ministers, business leaders, actors and musicians. In all those times, I was never overwhelmed. In the presence of Tom Rennie – a man who had seen and played a part in some of the most notorious battles in recent history – I was genuinely in awe.
He represented a kind of character you don’t often see these days. Truly stoic, taking life’s challenges in his stride, never allowing life to beat him, and always being thankful for every day he was given. Tom did it all with a smile and a wicked sense of humour. I met him when he was 89, and his mind was as sharp as ever.
I think of Tom often, and more so during this poignant time of year. He passed away at the age of 90, not long after I had come to Malaysia. When I first met him, he had been waiting for 69 years on a service medal from the Russians, previously denied to British soldiers due to fragile political relations. Receiving The Arctic Star was an honour Tom so proudly received.
As I remember Tom, I’m reminded why I’ve always preferred the company of the older generations. In my experience, the wisdom and insights they have to share on life is priceless, and I think it’s to our peril that we don’t afford our elders the same respect as they used to receive. Their stories, experiences and perspectives are so rich with life lessons, and yet many people don’t take the time to enjoy such a treasure trove of knowledge that’s right there waiting to be shared.
For me, the best thing about learning from the older generations is that they tend to teach without either party being aware of it. Often, after a conversation with an elderly relative or friend, it’s not until I’ve reflected on what’s been said that I realise they’ve shared a valuable insight that allows me to understand life a little better in some way.
We should all consider spending more time with the elderly. Often, it comes across like the young ones doing them a favour, but it’s usually the other way around. In my opinion, there’s no greater life investment than to learn at the feet of those who have seen more changes than we can even begin to imagine.
Tom Rennie taught me to value whatever time I have. At the age of 89, he said that it felt like yesterday when he signed up – at the age of 14 – to join the navy, after lying about his age, as many boys did. He also taught me to stop taking life too seriously. “You never get out alive, anyway,” he joked.
Wherever you are, Tom, thank you so much. For your service to your country, your generosity to others, your kind spirit, and most of all, for your enduring patience with a young man who still has so much to learn.
Sandy Clarke has long held an interest in emotions, mental health, mindfulness and meditation. He believes the more we understand ourselves and each other, the better societies we can create. If you have any questions or comments, e-mail star2@thestar. com.my.