Who says we can’t continue to grow at any age?
When Barbara Samuel was nearly 80, she discovered her ability to take charge.
“I realized how strong I was. I hadn’t known my real strength.”
It’s not that in earlier years Barbara was incapable or weak. To the contrary, she was a wife, mother of three, community volunteer, and active member of her synagogue. But, she hadn’t felt empowered to be a decision maker.
Eli, Barbara’s late husband, was a kind and devoted man. He was also the one who stepped up to make all the decisions for the family.
Barbara was not only comfortable with this construct – she depended on it.
“Eli was the breadwinner. Major considerations, like where we were going to live, were up to him. And I trusted him. He consistently made the right decisions.”
Barbara remembers only one situation when she was not in agreement with his plans. While she was feeling very content with their home and neighborhood, Eli was checking out properties that were for sale.
“Since I had never gone out to earn the money, I told Eli that I didn’t have the right to call the shots. Eli appreciated [my willingness to step aside] because he was continuing to search.”
The family did end up moving to a new location. Despite her resistance to the plan, Barbara did not harbor residual bitterness. Ultimately, she agreed that it was a smart choice.
“I never felt that Eli was stepping over me. He was always my helpmate and my soul mate.”
But in 2004, Eli was diagnosed with end-stage cancer and roles within the family shifted significantly.
“I knew it was time for me to step up. I told Eli that now I was going to be his boss. And I was.”
Barbara was 76 when Eli died. While mourning her loss, she reflected on her abilities. She had been comfortable taking charge and she knew she had the confidence needed to go forward alone.
It’s been nearly 15 years since Barbara first felt this sense of empowerment. She cites examples of some of the changes that she has undergone.
In 2006, Barbara became president of her synagogue, Tifereth Israel Congregation in New Bedford, MA. She was the third woman to hold this position. This was a role Eli had held 30 years earlier.
Barbara hadn’t expected to be so confident in the position. She loved the vantage point. She was now influencing significant decisions about the future of the congregation. She enjoyed the opportunity to work closely with Rabbi Raphael Kanter, a man she greatly admired. Synagogue had always played a vital role in her life, and now she had the opportunity to give back to that community.
As president, Barbara assumed a pivotal position in securing the financial health of the synagogue. In addition to one-on-one visits with members, it is the responsibility of the president to speak annually at the Yom Kippur service. The message to be delivered was consistent: urging congregants to financially invest in the synagogue for today’s members and future generations. Barbara discovered that she was very comfortable making this pitch. She also discovered that she was good at it. During the two years of her term, the High Holiday appeal intake was record-breaking.
Her reputation for offering a compelling message extended well beyond her presidency. Ten years after she stepped down, Barbara was recruited to deliver the financial pitch at Yom Kippur services.
“I write out the speech beforehand, but I never read the remarks. I can’t speak from the heart if I’m reading from a paper.”
Barbara notes that, while in her 80s, her attitude has markedly shifted.
“I feel more blessed about everything.”
It’s not that life has been easier this past decade. In fact, she has had to limit her activity. She can no longer continue her cherished routine of attending weekly Shabbat services. It’s just too hard these days to get up and out in the morning. But Barbara is ok with this reality.
“I just don’t sweat the small stuff.”
She is deeply connected to her three children, four granddaughters, and three great-granddaughters. Of course, she wishes they were all within arms reach, but that doesn’t diminish the sustenance she garners from these relationships.
“I’m full of love. That’s what it’s all about these days. Nothing else matters.”
As she reflects about the changes in her life, she reiterates that she doesn’t begrudge the years when her opinions and actions were secondary to her spouse’s.
“Back then, that’s just the way things were. But things do change. You know, telephones once had dials!”
Barbara reminds us that we are always capable of growing. And, better yet, we are also capable of feeling joy as we watch ourselves evolve.
I relate to your changing roles through necessity. I don’t choose it, but I’m a team player and have to step up and do my part.