For information on submitting an obituary, please contact Reading Eagle by phone at 610-371-5018, or email at obituaries@readingeagle.com or fax at 610-371-5193.
Most obituaries published in the Reading Eagle are submitted through funeral homes and cremation services, but we will accept submissions from families. Obituaries can be emailed to obituaries@readingeagle.com.
In addition to the text of the obituary, any photographs that you wish to include can be attached to this email. Please put the text of the obituary in a Word document, a Google document or in the body of the email. The Reading Eagle also requires a way to verify the death, so please include either the phone number of the funeral home or cremation service that is in charge of the deceased’s care or a photo of his/her death certificate. We also request that your full name, phone number and address are all included in this email.
All payments by families must be made with a credit card. We will send a proof of the completed obituary before we require payment. The obituary cannot run, however, until we receive payment in full.
Obituaries can be submitted for any future date, but they must be received no later than 3:00 p.m. the day prior to its running for it to be published.
Please call the obituary desk, at 610-371-5018, for information on pricing.
Keeping one’s balance is a rule to live by, especially as one grows old. I should know — the other day I stumbled and fell, fortunately not hurting anything but my pride. But it was a wakeup call about the hazards of aging.The body should come with a label: “Warning, schedule regular maintenance.”
I once thought growing old happened to other people, but now it’s happening to me and I wonder how the years passed by so quickly. I know some say no matter your age, put mind over matter, but matter matters, no matter how mindful one is. Reality has a nasty way of disrupting one’s expectations..
I am learning some ancient wisdom — change is one sure constant. Therefore, learning to adapt is a rule of nature, the evolutionary process requiring this adaptation. In my case it’s not Darwin’s survival of the fittest but rather day-to-day survival in a shaky world and aging body.
My brother and I called getting old the Humpty Dumpty syndrome. Remember that old rhyme about a character who fell from a wall, “and all the king’s horses and all the king’s men couldn’t put Humpty together again?” Only later was Humpty seen as an egg and thereby broken, but the fable is about the risks of falling, the greatest fear when you’re old is breaking a hip, not an egg shell.
I’ve adapted to my situation in a number of ways beyond the traditional ones of watching what I eat, keeping my mind alert and limiting some activities I once enjoyed. I’ve adapted by discovering new ways to live.
I take time now walking down stairs. I grip handrails to get down them. I only drive short distances and familiar back streets to get to the stores, and I park in spaces next to where the grocery carts are stored — they make excellent walkers for wheeling around stores while exercising.
What I once thought of as “wasted” time is vital to my well-being, such as sitting outside without a book or cellphone, resting my eyes (some call it “napping”) or watching a movie with a dog by my side. My dog seems more interested in some flicks than I am, especially ones with barking dogs or shouting people.
Most importantly, I always take a cane for walking. Not only does it provide balance, but it’s a way to point to what you want when it’s on a high shelf. I joke that if a mugger appears, a cane comes in handy as a threatening weapon. Well, maybe the word “threatening” is a bit too strong. I mean, how imposing could a cane really be? I tell a friend if a mugger approaches, I will stop him with a Robert Frost poem to create momentary confusion to provide a time to consider other choices.
I have written this on my cane for anyone who asks me why I have one: “I’m Cane because he’s not Abel.” Sometimes the inquirer laughs at the biblical reference, other times they chuckle while walking away without the slightest idea what the words mean.
I have learned three important lessons as one grows old. First, adapt creatively to change. Second, be curious. Third, see the lighter side of life by poking fun at yourself and others, especially those who aren’t able to laugh at themselves — they’re the ones who worry me most because they lack humility and thus perspective.
Laughter is good medicine, and the prescription for doing so won’t cost you an arm and leg, either (pardon the medical reference). One retired teacher summed the aging process with this aphorism: “Medical science has made it possible to live longer and economics has made it impossible to live.”
Long ago, still a young man, I was chosen to start and lead an organization serving older adults. I knew little then about growing old because I hadn’t done so. I learned a great deal, however, simply listening to the stories of those who had lived long lives. They taught me. I didn’t teach them,
I did listen to those in the later years of life — I prefer the term “elder” not “senior citizen” because I learned to respect the elders of any culture who can warn of mistakes and victories. In our modern culture we seldom listen to anyone outside our comfort zones or too old to be seriously considered.
It’s not the number of years lived that brings wisdom, but rather the number and quality of lives lived — what a person learns from the years. Perhaps being older has only given us the chance to make more mistakes and learn from them.
In my older years I am learning a few lessons I wish I had learned when younger. Spending time accumulating things doesn’t matter in the long run because as the saying goes, “you can’t take it with you.” Henry David Thoreau said those who spend their time this way live “lives of quiet desperation,” meaning they never feel fulfilled. Better and wiser advice for how to live well was offered by scientist and philosopher Bertrand Russell when asked what advice he would give future generations. “Love more, hate less,” he responded.
Or, perhaps, I have finally learned this simple, commonsense wisdom from comedian Groucho Marx: “Getting older is not a problem. You just have to live long enough.”
John C. Morgan is an author and educator who writes about ethical issues and concerns.