We all know that death will come, although we can’t know when. Like many older people I’ve done some calculations to figure out approximately when I think I will die. I’ve factored in such things as how long my parents and grandparents lived, the average life span of men, the effects of health, education, fiscal resources, etc. Of courses, averages are just that, mid-points with most of us being below or above the average. All of which mean that despite our guess work, we can never know when the end will come.
One thing I do know is that the older I get the more deeply I become aware of the fact of death. As a child I couldn’t even conceive of dying. When I became an adult reality set in. I watched my grandparents pass away and later my own parents. The realization deepened even more as I read about the deaths of movie stars, musicians, politicians, sports heroes and others who were well known public figures
Then, as time passed, I found myself among the older generation. Hard to believe, but nevertheless true. It’s my turn next! As the days, weeks, months and years go tumbling by, seemingly faster and faster, I have become acutely aware at a visceral level that time is running out. I’m in my late seventies so I figure that, if my calculations are roughly correct, at best I have about a decade left. Of course that assumes there are no negative events that occur earlier like having a heart attack, a fatal stroke, a fatal fall, or I am killed in a car accident.
A decade seemed like forever when I was young and there were many years ahead for me, but at my age a decade is probably the best I can hope for. That seems like a very short time. All of which explains why I feel the reality of death more deeply as it comes closer and closer.
The upside of the growing realization of the closeness of death is that I have become more aware that the limited life span I have left is precious. I feel this intensely. Actually, having been diagnosed with prostate cancer about 18 years ago, when I was just past 60, I got an early wakeup call about the potential closeness of death. So far I’m one of the lucky ones. I’m still here! In some ways I almost feel lucky that I got the cancer because it shifted my priorities significantly. I retired, moved to a less stressful place, took up activities that I wanted to engage in but hadn’t made the time for earlier, and reserved lots of time for caring and supportive relationships.
As the clock winds down I am even more focused on making life as rich, positive, and meaningful as possible. When the sun rises my wife and I welcome the day, chat about our dreams and what we are looking forward to doing that day. Most important, we take time to express gratitude for what we have been given and for our good fortune to be alive and healthy.
While it is helpful, expressing gratitude doesn’t require a partner. Being grateful for the life that we have been given simply requires an open heart and a realization that life is a special gift.
I am aware that, as my remaining years shrink, time becomes a more important commodity. This awareness has resulted in some not-so-subtle shifts in my life. I have sorted through what I want and don’t want my daily life to be like. I am now less inclined to spend time on activities that do not feel positive to me. I am less inclined to spend time with people who are depressing or negative and more interested in connecting with others who are energized, positive, and caring. I also want to feed my soul by spending time in beautiful, natural settings. In other words, I want to make each day as meaningful as possible.
It’s all about setting priorities and then trying to live by them. At the end of the day, I ask myself, do I feel good about what I have been doing? Have I fed my soul? Or, have I simply been marking time? Paying attention to these questions has been most helpful in keeping me on the path to what I define as a meaningful life.
In the process I believe I have come to terms with life’s ending, although nobody really knows how they will actually deal with it when the time comes to die. I do know that having given a good deal of thought to death I am getting on with living fully. As Tevye sang in Fiddler on the Roof, La Chiam, To Life!
by Mike Milstein
