For my 60th birthday last year, I wrote the typical, funny, “I can’t believe I’m here” stories about reaching a milestone birthday. Some harsh reality set in in the past twelve months, but it also validated last year’s message.
Reality Sets In
Rather than hearing I looked too good to be 60, I endured abundant episodes indicating my appearance was age-appropriate.
When I delivered my mom to the church’s senior citizen meeting, the leader informed me I was qualified to join the group. An insurance agent gave me her business card and more credit in years than I deserve by telling me she sold Medicare supplement insurance.
I mentor a younger man and fancy I could be his wingman at the discotheque. When I met his mom, she severely bruised my ego by expressing appreciation for my fatherly relationship with her son since his dad lives overseas.
I feel like the middle-aged actor attending a rom-com movie audition expecting the groom’s role only to be handed the script for the bride’s father.
Riches of Gratitude
What I have lost in appearance and ability, I make up for with gratitude. I begin by appreciating I attained an age my only sibling did not (the same for Cathy’s only sibling).
My gratitude extends beyond merely surviving a number of years; I am profoundly grateful for family, friends, and companions who have nurtured me in countless ways, exceptional health, good fortune, and a loving God.
Neither I nor all my experiences have been good, but everything has worked together to bring me to this appreciated place. I am inclined to change some things, but I suspect my “corrections” would yield less favorable outcomes.
Obligatory Advice
You will regret things done, but the biggest and most memorable regrets will likely be things you wanted to do but didn’t.
I did not order the pan-fried abalone I desperately desired but refused to pay for at Scoma’s on San Francisco’s Fisherman’s Wharf in 1994. I do not recall what I did with the $20 saved, nor would I remember the abalone if I had eaten it. However, I cannot forget depriving myself when I had the opportunity to indulge myself modestly.
It is not only indulgences but the endeavors you always wanted to pursue but have left untried, like writing that book, starting that business, or climbing whatever other mountain you imagine. Even if unaccomplished, we owe it to ourselves to figuratively die trying.
Picture Story
Considering our funeral provides helpful guidance. We know the customary advice – live according to what we want people to say at our funeral. Why leave our fate in the voices of our sometimes too brutally honest friends and family?
Rather than eulogies, contemplate the content of your funeral slide show – the pictures of beloved people during cherished times. Besides a cameo appearance, many things we spend so much time chasing, such as jobs, houses, cars, and investments, are not featured. Not only can you not take them with you, they will not even come to your funeral.
My children assembled the slide show honoring my recently deceased mother. There was not one picture featuring her sparkling jewelry, her candy apple red Bentley sedan, or the famous destinations she visited in her lifetime. My children relegated all of these things to the background; the pictures evidenced time enjoyed with loved ones.
My Intention
A year ago, I committed to generating more picture-worthy events, whether or not I memorialized them. While I did not post them on the ‘Gram, there were more people and experiences – date nights, phone calls, visits with Mom, family trips, friend trips, and time invested supporting others.
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Let us be very intentional about what we do and who we do it with.