As a child, I made a life goal of living to 100 years old. I thought that if one lived that long he would be doing it right. He would have seen and done everything that the world had to offer. He would have found love, wealth, and happiness. He would be surrounded by loving friends and family.
I have a memory which frequently comes to mind. In it, I am getting ready to have breakfast after staying the night at my Grandma Solari’s house. She said that before I ate I had to go and wash my face. This was not the ritual at my house. Furthermore, I didn’t like her barking an order at me. I hadn’t spent much time at Grandma’s house and thus had never been close enough to be told what to do. I remember her making me wash my face with a coarse washcloth. After I was done, I tossed it down the laundry chute which led to a basket in the basement where a laundry basket was waiting to catch it.
Often, when washing my face with a coarse washcloth of my own, this memory surfaces. It’s funny the things we remember.
Grandma died a couple years ago. She was the last remaining grandparent of mine. She lived to age 95. She had been married to my grandfather all her life. He died a few years prior which afforded her an opportunity to enjoy some peace and quiet. I digress.
When I made this goal, I didn’t realize that not everyone would be coming with me- that living that long means that almost everyone you grew up with, siblings, friend, cousins, would die before you. I am 36 and almost half my family is deceased.
I think that a part of my goal was to one day be happy. I figured that a guy who lived to be 100 would figure out how to be happy. I remember having thoughts upon meeting a happy 25 year old, “when I am 25 then maybe I will have figured it out.” I remember seeing someone who was a good athlete and who was a year older than me and thinking “when I am that old I will be a good athlete.” I also did a similar thing with relationships: “when I am xx age I will have friends, like that guy.” Always some other time that now… always in the distant future… never here and now.
The past couple years I have really been forcing myself to slow down and to work in the here now. I found someone to love. This has been a big thing for me as for a long time I was much more comfortable living with “maybe someday.” This living in the “maybe someday” offers protection against the potential pain of today. It also, however eliminates any opportunity for real happiness.
Dave Matthews says in a song “everyday should be a good day to die.” I like this idea. Not sure if I still want to live to be 100 anymore. I’ll be good with 85 J.
JS
