Hello on another day of significance,
It’s an Election Day and as always the attempted reading of the tea leaves is on full boil. Additionally, there is an irony that the early morning news feeds all raced to be the first to report the passing of former Vice President/Secretary of Defense/White House Chief of Staff Richard (Dick) Cheney. He reshaped the role of Vice President, and some will argue started the country on the path of pushing executive power. He also showed incredible principle to speak out about his feelings on January 6th as well as cast his last presidential vote for Kamala Harris. The stark reality is that life continues and the equalizer for all of us is that life stops. What I find myself doing more and more frequently when someone notable passes away (e.g. a musician in a band I grew up on; an movie person whose movies touched me; or someone who wielded power in our world) is comparing our difference in years. Perhaps 14 years seemed like a lot once upon a time (the difference between Dick Cheney‘s age, at his death, and my current age), but not as not the case now. What I find interesting is that we don’t really always know the age of those born before us who have become influential in whatever area of life it is. Additionally, as we are living longer, pointing out someone’s age, particularly in the area politics, seems to be more and more likely, as well as more and more significant.
There are certainly those persons who say age is nothing more than a number. And that is certainly the case; it is a number. But to say that no numbers are significant is a bit naïve. I remember 16 and its importance to be able to drive. And of course I am old enough that 18 meant I was an adult. Free young people today, the number is 21. And then the course, there is the number 30 or the number 40. Terms like biological clocks, or phrases like over-the-hill, get attached to those numbers. Attempts to reverse our understanding of aging with phrases like 50 is the new 30 or whatever else is said, hoping to somehow make us feel relevant is tossed around as another number is added to our chronological clock. Personally, neither 60 or 65 really phased me, but I’m not sure the same will be said for me about 70.
Is there a particular age the pushes someone to seriously consider their mortality? I doubt that is the case. For me, and I do think I am somewhat typical, I don’t know that I have ever considered how long I will live in terms of a number. Because of a lifelong battle to maintain health, and more than once being told, I had hours, weeks or months to live, I pondered more about what I would still do rather than what age I had attained. I remember realizing that I had lived longer than the grandmother I recently wrote about. I remember when I was older than my adopted mother when she passed. In each instance, I don’t believe there was a sense of accomplishment, and certainly no morbidity, but rather a realization of mortality. on the other hand, when both of them passed away, I was in my early 20s and mid 30s. While certainly an adult, I still believed I had most of my life in front of me. When my grandmother passed, I had not yet been diagnosed with Crohn’s disease. When my mother passed, that diagnosis was still quite recent. The irony of life . . . As I am writing this, I got a notice that the wife of the pastor I served with has passed away. Another moment of irony that I am writing on this topic and received the notice from my former church secretary. I remember when I arrived in Lehighton the fall of 1988. I did not realize that Guy and Norma had been high school sweethearts and in reading the obituary today, they were married 67 years. That is a profound testament to understanding life and love.
What makes one’s life memorable? And then perhaps one asks to whom? What are the objective aspects of life? How do those aspects affect longevity? Studies back to the mid-20th century show that the objectivity of life has less to do with our sense of meaning than do the subjective aspects, which more regularly affect both behavior and social interaction (Berger and Pullman, 1965). Having some feeling of importance or a need to keep ourselves involved with others has a profound effect on how we manage life. In fact one specific study focused on a life of meaning and its connection to mortality. There was a direct correlation between having a life of consequence and staving off our eventual mortality. What makes one’s life something of consequence? Most generally it is our interpersonal relationships or our interactions with events or tasks that provide a sense of worth. When our lives go through a significant change, I am realizing that the need to find something of value to do is imperative. And that for me is more than merely keeping busy. it is more than some achievement, and it is more than simply having another person. For me it is pondering and writing, making my brain work. Questioning the why of something is important to me. It is what gives me purpose, or so it seems. I struggle when people are willing to merely wander along much like the feather blowing in the wind at the beginning and end of Forrest Gump. Certainly, there are moments to allow for such a possibility. The memory of my CPE supervisor telling me that I lacked a sense of humor or that I was too serious just came to mind. While I am not sure I accurately recall how he framed it, I remember being shocked at his assessment. Now 40 years later, I think he was probably more correct than I was willingly to accept in that moment. There is a seriousness that I seldom seem to shake. Even as I prepare for an event, someone whose opinion I value told me I was too serious, too scholarly, as a did something. Again, I was taken back, and even a bit hurt. How do I allow myself to have fun? Do I even know how? That is an incredible question to ask myself at this point. What provides a sense of enjoyment for me? Do I know? Again is there a seriousness in my figuring out fun? Another absurdity of sorts. Is something being enjoyable fun? Does doing something enjoyable mean I having fun? What does it mean to have fun? When do I last remember having fun? Oh my goodness! What have I discovered or realized? What might I do? What gives life a sense of both importance and enjoyment? Do I know? Hmmmm
Thanks for reading, as always.
Michael
thewritingprofessor55 