(Writer’s note: I wrote this blog a couple of years ago and ran across it
again this morning. It made me smile and a little bit sad at the same time, so I thought I’d share.)
I’ve been thinking a lot about death lately, as well as my own mortality.
Wow, that sounds dark and heavy and ominous, doesn’t it? Well… perhaps it is a little. But I’ve also come to realize that it’s a good thing. Something
that gives me comfort. Something that’s compelling me to get out and
really LIVE.
There is a scene at the end of Guardians of the Galaxy 2 where Peter Quill (aka Star Lord, one of the main characters of the film) is listening to a mix tape his mother gave him. The mix tape has profound importance to Peter as it was given to him while his mother lay in a hospital bed, dying from brain cancer. The name of the particular song Peter is listening to is “Father
and Son,” by Cat Stevens. If you haven’t heard it, it’s a haunting and beautiful song about a man trying to convince his son to stay with him,
while his son tries to explain that he (the son) must leave in order to find
himself. The first time I read the lyrics, I cried (and I am not ashamed to
admit it). The lyrics express perfectly how I am feeling these days about
my boys.
My older son was home for Mother’s Day and it was wonderful having him home. He was upbeat and funny and I loved watching him and his brother banter and playfully bicker with each other. It’s only when our little family is together do I feel completely whole.
Then, my son returned to Boulder (about 45 miles from where we live) and the empty feeling I get whenever he leaves returned. I jokingly told my wife that our son is either not allowed to come home, or he’s not allowed to leave. She said it sounds like the Hotel California.
Then, I started to wonder about why I always feel a bit empty and depressed when my son returns to school. He doesn’t live all that far away and we get to see him fairly frequently. So why does it make me feel so down when he leaves? It occurred to me that part of the reason it hurts is because it reminds me that I’m growing older. He’s at the point in his life where he doesn’t really need me. Well, he still needs my checkbook, but he doesn’t need ME. Or at least that’s how it feels.
In general, I don’t feel very different than I did when I was in my 20’s. My
mind is still reasonably sharp (well, as sharp as it ever was, which is a
different topic for discussion), I still have the same sense of humor and
generally optimistic view of the world, and although my body is showing signs of wear and tear, it has yet to break down to the point that I cannot do the things I enjoy. In fact, recently I’ve had a couple of experiences where I’ve run into people that I haven’t seen in quite some time. Their reaction both times has been the same: “you look exactly the same!” Well, sometimes they add that I certainly have a lot of gray hair these days. But I figure that at least I still have it, so it can be whatever color it wants.
So, the only thing that really serves as a reminder that I’m growing older is
my children. My older son is 20 and is really becoming a special young
man. My younger son is 16 and is a typical self-centered and emotionally
unstable teenager, but we see glimpses of what he will be like as an adult.
I am immensely proud of both of my boys, but it’s hard for me to live in
my little world of denial about my age as they continue to grow and mature.
After all, I can’t still be 25 if I have a 20 year old son; the math just
doesn’t work.
Watching my children grow up has forced me to realize that I, too, am growing older. And when you’re having discussions about life insurance, estate planning, what you want for your funeral, and whether you’d rather be buried or cremated (cremated, thank you very much), you are slapped in the face with the fact that your days on this earth are limited. As the song by the Doors goes, “no one here gets out alive.”
But recently, I’ve also come to take some comfort in the idea that my remaining days are numbered. You see, if you have an unlimited supply of something, human nature is to take it for granted. As a result, in my younger days, I always assumed that I would have time to accomplish my goals, realize my dreams, and experience all those things in life I’ve always wanted to experience. More and more, however, I realize that my remaining time is growing shorter, and if I want to accomplish my goals, realize my dreams, and experience all that life has to offer, I need to GET ON WITH IT! There is real power in accepting that something isn’t precious because it lasts, it’s precious because it doesn’t.
No longer will I waste my days assuming I will always have more time. No,
it’s time for me to make each and every day count. I paid a day of my
life for today, I am going to squeeze every moment of living that I can from
it.
Things I've Learned 