A month ago I was in Seward, Alaska. It occurred to me that I was only a month away from a birthday but when asked, the familiar, comfortable, waning 73 still felt right. This morning, reading a silly birthday card, I had to reboot my odometer. I’m 74 now but birthday was just another day. Weighing days has always been less threatening than years. So I’m only a few days older than I was the other day. Still I take advantage of any excuse to celebrate almost anything so birthdays are great. Wouldn’t it be great to live well, deep into the 21st Century and set a record for birthday candles on a cake? But the whole idea there is “...live well.” Longevity by itself is just a yardstick, an empty vessel that can be filled with anything.
Back in the early 80’s, teaching school and coaching, I had a friend who helped me with my wrestling team. We looked a lot alike and many people thought we were brothers. He was more animated, more outgoing and his energy was certainly a boost to our program. Ray used an expression when referring to people who experienced failure or misfortune: “Better him than me...” You could count on hearing it several times a day. If I suffered a screw up or setback he would laugh when he said it: “Better you than me...” One night, after a wrestling match, he suffered a heart attack and died. He was 39.
I might acknowledge it with a nod but never used that phrase, it was his. After his passing, when the situation was right, it would occur to me that had Ray been there, he would have defaulted to the “Better him . . .” remark. I could almost hear him speak the words. It still happens; when someone gets bad news, his words scroll up in my mind but in all this time they have never crossed my lips. I try not to be superstitious but it would feel like a curse and I don’t want to tempt fate. When something breaks or I lose money on a deal; when I’m sick or my best plans go to south, I remember there will be another day and that things work out. It’s been a life lesson: Don’t take comfort in the fact that you dodged someone else’s bullet. It was never about you. The other half of the lesson is, “What goes around, comes around.” I’ve conditioned myself to play the cards I have and be grateful that I’m in the game. In college, my mentor had many favorite quotes. One I remember best is by Branch Rickey. Rickey broke major league baseball’s color barrier in 1947 when he brought Jackie Robinson up to play for the Dodgers. He said, “If you can’t afford to lose, you can’t afford to play.” The lesson I took there is cliche but never the less: it’s not about a destination, it’s about the journey. I want to win but win or lose, I want to play.
So I”m 74, still in the game. I have over over twenty seven thousand wake-ups My car has more miles than that and it’s only a couple of years old. Twenty seven thousand wake-ups doesn’t sound like a lot but but naps don’t count and it takes a while to get there. I put a lot more stock in wake-ups than I do in years or birthdays. It’s one of those “Bird In The Hand . . .” things. Wake-ups are within your grasp. You get a day to play with, to take as far as you can or let it slip away in winks and blinks until you don’t know where it went. You just take stock and be glad; you fall asleep and maybe dream something that isn’t too scary, maybe leave you with a smile.
I had a happy birthday. Friends and family remembered and wished me well. I broke bread, spent the afternoon with a friend and we went our own ways. Today is a new day and we’ll see where it goes.
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