Perspective

Sometimes I fear it’s redundant to always talk about the 4^th quarter, but that’s my reality.  I’m here and it’s obvious there’s no going back, only forward so I better make the best of it.  Examples of this fact are everywhere, as the simplest of tasks in earlier decades now require a bit more thought and energy—vacuuming, changing the bed, mowing the yard (Diane informs me this is my last year), washing windows, gardening, even replacing a hard to get to light bulb. We find ourselves off-loading more and more tasks for those younger than us. Most recently, it was the gutters and I was happy to relinquish that responsibility.  So, time marches on and we pivot and adjust to new realities.

          There is a certain humor to all this. Recently, Diane and I drove to Canton, Illinois, to visit dear friends John and Bobbi McCarthy. John was one of the most popular teachers in the College of Business at Western Illinois University. He not only taught; he entertained and students loved him. We have a standing argument about which of us was more popular in the classroom and it’s become clear the correct answer depends on which of us you ask. It’s been almost a year since we last got together but as we pulled in the driveway, it seemed like just yesterday. We hugged (shaking hands stopped years ago) and the four of us shared old times. What was funny, was to look at we two aging octogenarians—one a renowned professor and lawyer and the other a teacher and “alumni guy.” 

          We’ve known each other for almost sixty years, and time has certainly changed how we look and move about. We were once vibrant and strong and now we are two little old men who walk slowly and maybe even shuffle a bit. But what hasn’t changed is the love and respect we have for each other and the lively banter and good-natured kidding that has always been our trademark. As I type this, I suppose there is a message in here somewhere and maybe it’s to savor those close friendships we’ve established over the decades and work to sustain and nurture them. 

          Along this train of thought, recently we lost a couple of iconic personalities who were fixtures in Macomb for what seems like forever. Bruce and Ron were not only successful in their respective careers but fun guys to be around. You know the type; they would walk into a room and immediately things got a bit more exciting and animated. Both men had celebrations of their lives—large assemblies of friends toasting, visiting, laughing and only people not there were these two fine men.  It seems a uniquely odd American tradition to have this celebration after one dies, but I guess it’s a nice way to express our appreciation for a life well lived.  On the serious side of saying goodbyes, these words from J.R. Miller seem to encapsulate what’s important. “The only thing that walks back from the tomb with the mourners and refuses to be buried is the character of a man. What a man is survives him. It can never be buried.”  Guess this is my way of saying appreciative goodbyes to Bruce and Ron.

          I continue to marvel at how I can be entering the ninth decade of my wonderful life. It seems like only yesterday that I was young and embarking on marriage and graduate school. Yet in a way, it seems like eons ago and I wonder where all the years have gone. I know I lived them as I’m still here to remember them. I sometimes close my eyes and think about why it has all worked out so well—career, kids, community, grandkids. Then it dawns on me—Diane. We just celebrated anniversary #58 and our family knows the role I have played, but we also know the glue that has held it all together is Mom. She is the one that bandaged hurt knees or lessened someone’s injured ego or gave us a needed attaboy and in a figurative sense, did it for me as well as for the kids. It has not all been a picnic but together, it has lasted six, count them, six decades, and after a couple more years, we’ll shoot for seven.

I learned long ago that it is not how long one lives but rather how they live that matters.  I guess Dolly Parton did both—a long life well lived. She apparently was just inspiring to be around and made you better for having known her. Dolly famously said, “If you see someone without a smile today, give’m yours.” How nice is that. One of those covering her passing might have said it best. “Dolly Parton was the last American everyone liked.”  That’s living a life that made a difference.

          To all of us, we need to keep living while we can and as anonymous so poignantly said, “keep the sun above the horizon.”