Preparing For Take-Off-#2
I first
wrote under this title in the spring of 2016. Here we are in June 2022, and it
appears to me the subject deserves a responsible reprise. Now six years later,
and my Bride and I approaching our nineties, the subject at least needs a
re-think. Way back then we were crooning over our blessings, and counting our
fingers, expecting one or two of them, at least, to drop off. We had had a few
health scares and we believed we were acting sensibly and appropriately in
totting up final scores. Well, look at us now!
Life is just
too much fun to consider handing in our papers, and as organisms, we keep on
keeping on. Don’t get me wrong, we are occupying a full platoon of health care
providers. They are busy keeping our scorecards up to date. But so far, we
appear to be more make-work projects than serious tests of the system.
When we last
focused on these issues we recounted the background of a study of couples
facing terminal illness on the part of one of the partners. Researchers were
seeking to learn how people faced this challenge and worked around them. We
appreciate better now how different was our situation. We did not have that
overt notice of termination, and all the contemplation that was so present in
our minds, study of the issues at that time has now been proved to be
theoretical. The hullabaloo of daily life has cast those thoughts far from our
minds.
We have from
time to time thought of ourselves as occupants, with others of our peers, of
the virtual waiting room, on the very edge of departure. And we have certainly
noted that there are fewer of our contemporaries there with us. We find it a
little surprising when some of the youngsters in our crowd suddenly check out.
We ourselves have noticed a change in energy levels, and the arrival of a
chronic pain or two, but having so much fun just being around, we have taken
those troubles, so far, with a grain of salt.
What is even
more surprising to me is how hard I have to work to encourage adopting some
vices. We need those to depart in a blaze of glory. I feel I must be such a
dull and boring person that I find no particular pleasure in carousing with
liquor, or with those who find such things enjoyable. And though I have a
terrible sweet tooth, and I am a type II diabetic, I get no particular pleasure
in overdoing things. And my doctor is complacent with blood sugar levels that
would once have sent me running to the emergency room. I worry about blindness
and amputation and he poo-poos all that.
Today we
participated in a community choir presentation, singing the old songs for other
oldsters in our community. And when a string band began to play some jazzy
danceable music as part of the program, we danced ourselves silly. Strangely,
we were almost the only ones, with all the younger ones sitting on their hands on
the sidelines. Why were only the old ones acting like youngsters? Is that why
we are alive today when the younger ones are dying off?
Having
survived the imminent threats to our mortality, we have cast off all thought of
preparation. (Mind you, I do have a draft obituary on my computer desktop, to
prompt my would-be diarists.) So we are now content to bluff the come-what-may.
For now we
take comfort in every sunny day, and bear the rainy days with good spirits. We
seek out family and friends without, I hope, making a nuisance of ourselves. We
seek to bind them to our sides however we can, with good food, good company and
good humor.
The sight of
children laughing lights up our lives, and familiar music is set to play
automatically on our TV. We wrap ourselves in our clothing familiars, and worry
less about appearances. We are confident in our soft landings regardless of the
inherent realities of our numerous sinnings. We are more relaxed with fewer
demands or expectations. We have grown in confidence that our offsprings, and
our offsprings’ offsprings, have the
future well in hand.
We are not
Pollyanna, knowing that the world we inhabit is full of threats, as it was very
much in our salad days. But we take from our surprising survival the somewhat
unreasonable belief that the tide in human affairs will always be a rising one.
We make no
projections, but we await further miracles of survival with hopes that our
passage through our future times together will continue to afford us the
pleasures of the companionship of those we think of, those we care for. What
more can one ask?
What’s
happening at your house?
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