I was recently invited to participate in a podcast and was asked what led me to become a psychologist. Among other things, I thought about my grandfather, who immigrated from Italy to the United States in 1955. He served as a POW for six years during World War II, captured by British troops while serving in the Italian army.

After coming to America, he worked two jobs. His second shift was as a custodian for Marquette University. From as far back as I can remember, he pushed me to go to school. Despite my teenage rebelliousness, I kept his message in mind and got accepted to Marquette. From there, I embarked on my journey to becoming a psychologist. I used to visit him and my grandmother on weekends since they lived near the campus. She would load me up with pasta and meatballs, which I’d bring back to the dorm and share with my friends.

Reflecting on my childhood, I was fortunate enough to have had both sets of my grandparents until I was 17. Not only that, I was able to see them regularly and absorb their many colorful stories and words of wisdom. They were always there for me, in many ways my biggest cheerleaders. To this day, I carry a soft spot for the elderly.

I think about my younger patients and the extent to which their grandparents and the elderly play a role in their lives. I find it unfortunate that many lack regular contact and involvement with their elders, often due to geographic considerations, health issues, death, family dysfunction, or a general devaluation of the elderly. There seems to be a growing estrangement. Once seen as the wisest members of the family or tribe, their roles have become trivialized and diminished. To this, I ask: where will this next generation get their wisdom, learn their family histories, or experience the unconditional love that comes from a grandparent, great aunt, or uncle? What happens to tradition?

For many of my teenage and young adult clients, I encourage them to maximize the time they have with their elders. For those who do not have grandparents, whether they are teens, young adults, or middle-aged adults, I encourage them to pursue contact with the elderly through volunteer work or, at the very least, simple conversation when the opportunity arises, be it at church, the gym, or somewhere safe in the community.

I think about my friend Bob. He is 79 and suffering from Parkinson’s Disease. We speak weekly, sometimes for a few minutes, sometimes for 30. It makes him feel relevant. It makes him feel like he still matters. It gives me perspective, often grounding me with his stories and experiences. At his age, he is uncorked in his words. He says it like it is. He always makes me laugh and think.

So in this hectic and overly committed way in which we live, take some time to reflect, immerse yourself in the memories and the messages, and reprioritize your perspective on those who have lived, learned, and served.