Just eight days ago--May 14th--marked the 39th anniversary of my dad's death. On May 14th, I always think of dad, and this year the thinking has been more personal, since I am now exactly the same age as dad was when he passed on (on the operating table, in the middle of heart bypass surgery). If that doesn't bring home the theme of mortality, I don't know what will. But of course, I have my semi-legitimate reasons, as well as my semi-rationalizations, as to why I will surely outlive him. However, for the moment, I'll be happy just to "break the family curse" and get to age 59. [There is no such curse, but I like the scary sound of it.]
Along the way, down the path of life [please, spare us the trite metaphors!] I have come to realize two very paradoxical things: that I must be prepared to live, and I must be prepared to die. They are both important, although they don't always co-exist especially well. Today I can prepare to live by consuming vast quantities of yummy, gooey cheese pizza--but then, I need to be prepared to die from clogged arteries! And today I can prepare to die by getting all my affairs in order--but then, damn, I missed that party last night! Jeez--what's a fellow to do?
Big surprise here: there are no easy answers. But at some points in time--hopefully more frequently than less--I say to myself, "Go for it--have fun! You only live once." And at other points in time--again, maybe not every day but hopefully every week--I say to myself, "Are you prepared for the possibility that you could die today? And are you really ready for that?" The two issues are both important ones, and the trick seems to be to address each of them sufficiently well that you can let each of them go. You need to be able to say, "I am ready to live, and I am also ready to die." But, ready or not, here I come!
No comments:
Post a Comment