Today is December 8, 2019, and as I sit in front of my computer, I wonder what thoughts will cross my mind as I embark on this blog. I sat here once before almost 10 years ago when Diane and I did our best to explain the odyssey of our battle with my diagnosis and treatment for base of tongue cancer. This time around, I trust my reflections will be of a lighter and maybe even a more reflective nature. The Fourth Quarter, now that is an interesting title, and if you think about it, rather apropos for a man who will be 74 in February 2020. You get it, the fourth quarter, the winter of our years aka Frank Sinatra, the ninth inning. Oh wait, not that, but certainly the seventh or so.
Maybe you noticed the photo that introduces all this and you think, “Wait, it’s a fall scene and you are entering winter, so what’s the deal?” Pretty simple I suppose. Those fall leaves are on the ground so for me, hopefully, it is the beginning of winter, of the fourth quarter, of the last three innings of the ball game. There is a reason I have decided to take on this little project so let me explain. When I was the “alumni guy” at Western Illinois University, I wrote a column in the quarterly Western News and some folks actually read it and some even enjoyed it. After retirement I was encouraged to continue writing, but life seemed to get in the way, and I just never got around to it. Folks have continued to encourage me, and I continued to demure but good friend Mike Burke from my days as a student at Western, got after me, and would tell me, “Gordy, a half century of Western graduates have followed the adventures, the ups and downs, the trials and tribulations of your family, and your observations on our respective life journeys is worth exploring in this, the fourth quarter of our lives–you need to do this.” And so, with a tip of the proverbial hat, I begin.
I make no secret of it. I have been blessed. I had loving parents, married the girl of my dreams, helped Diane raise our 3 kids, and had the best jobs at Western, both as a teacher in the College of Business and as the “alumni guy” for 28 years. I loved the classroom and am still in touch with many of my former students. Alumni Programs was a job I believe was “made for me.” I got to meet and cultivate relationships that sustained me and hopefully pressed the agenda of Western forward in positive ways. I was able to play softball, basketball, football, tennis, and make a fool of myself on the golf course. I found time to jog literally in places around the world, attended tennis matches, basketball games, and baseball games when Jennifer, Gordon III, and Ryan were participating and have had a marvelous time, along with Diane, becoming an active citizen of Macomb. And that shall serve as an adequate synopsis of my life to date.
Mike Burke made me think. Damn, no matter how you slice or dice it, I am in the Fourth Quarter and what does that mean? I suppose that is what I hope to explore in the days and hopefully years ahead. We all need to think about this reality at some time in our lives and now is that time for me. I go to more funerals and visitations than weddings and that is likely to continue for the rest of my days. I can see this happening to me. I am no longer the young man I used to be. Instead of competitive sports, I now try and walk most every day. Diane has banned me from the roof, and we now have a “gutter repair guy.” I used to fill 200 bags with leaves each fall and now I call the “leaf removal guys” to do that task. Now, when we go to weddings, and they have the dance where couples exit the floor in ascending order of years married, I look around and there dance Diane and I as they hit 40 years, 45 and even 50 and heck, we are still out there as we recently celebrated #51.
Then yesterday, I attended a Celebration of Life for a wonderful young woman of 50, and it was so sad that we were all there honoring a life lost too soon. We will be attending two more visitations Monday. My parents are gone as are Diane’s and so it goes. I looked in the mirror the other day and exclaimed as I observed my sinking torso, “Good grief, I’ve become my Dad.” I have love handles, lots of gray hair (but as Diane says, “Gord, you do have hair”) and physical soreness where it never existed before. So, yes the Fourth Quarter is here.
Now, what to do with it.
Gordy and the Fourth Quarter 