I had just turned 70 and was happy about my life and my position and my health. Life had gone well for me – after a few career hiccups along the way. But looking back, I know and I could see long ago that those hiccups had prepared me and in fact, had set me up for a better, more resilient life.
I had known it would all work out. I was out walking, but as I walked, I began to recall the unsettling, very recent news of a few of my friends – friends from high school days – who had faced or were facing medical emergencies or challenges. Cancer, of course, kidney, a second bout that was caught in the nick of time before fully spreading to the pancreas. That same friend has just undergone surgery from complications due to chemo. Two other guys, who you would not have thought to have clogged arteries, were suddenly in consultations with their doctors to have open heart surgery. Both cases back-to-back in a matter of weeks. All three friends are trim and in good shape. How did this happen? I put my hand on my own heart and wondered.
Now I was out of the shadows and into the sun streaming its warmth on to my face. Me, the sun worshipper, the one who worked at the Long Island beach for six summers. Was the cancer coming for me next? If anyone should have skin cancer, it would be me.
Another friend from the same clique had been in a long-term battle. She has battled breast cancer off and on for more than 20 years – and she won and marched in cancer walks and marathons. She survives proudly but at a cost – the experimental treatments worked but her follicles no longer produce hair anywhere on her body. And she is a proud warrior, resplendent in her complete baldness.
Then there are the losses. Stephanie was first, a shock that she died immediately after childbirth. George, who grew too old too fast and died worn out. Steve, who died only a few years ago as his heart gave out. Jim S., who was an automobile whiz but may have been infected by too many toxic chemicals in his chosen craft. Sandy, a spouse of one of our friends, who was taken by breast cancer a decade ago. Maria, another spouse, sadly passed of a rare form of early onset dementia.
No one’s to blame, death comes for us all. I get it.
It’s a tender moment. I don’t know why. Life is sweet, life is precious. I walked around a lake with my wife, daughter, son and his new wife (my new daughter-in-law!) on my 70th birthday. We did not talk much about old stuff (as in, “Hey, you remember when we…”). Instead, we found it perfect to discuss a smorgasbord of the ridiculous and the everyday, mainstream patterns of life. We chose carefully, knowing which landmines to avoid, which can now be gently tread upon.
I had decided we should spend the day at Lake Galena in Peace Valley, a state park in PA. I looked out across the water and watched as the kayakers and small boaters sailed along and around the lake. The sun was high, a perfect day. We sat on a park bench and I deliciously recalled the line Paul Simon sang from his song from 53 years ago, Old Friends: “Sharing a park bench quietly / How terribly strange to be 70.”
I certainly did not know way back in 1970 when I listened to that song that at 70, I would be sharing that bench with my family on my birthday. I was not hanging with my Old Friends but they were in my thoughts. But the moment was perfect as I was surrounded by the love of my family and I privately hoped that all my friends were progressing in their various stages of recoveries.
It turns out that I am not without my own health concerns. Something was wrong so I recently called my doctor and a test revealed my PSA was 7.4 when it should be under 4. Genetics. My dad had some prostate issues and ten years ago, I needed to have 35% of my enlarged but non-cancerous prostate removed. Now, with the new PSA score, I need to make sure it is not prostate cancer. I know it is not. How? I just know, it’s not denial. But my prostate might be enlarged again and I need to find out why. So, I will go to my appointments and discover what is causing the abnormal numbers. We all have our own Private Idaho.
When I step back, I am astonished at the strength and resiliency of all my friends. Beating cancer, not once but twice, or more times. Dealing with the idea of having your chest opened so that arteries and valves can be removed, cleaned, replaced. Tending to spouses who suffered slow declines, then death.
Moving on. That’s what we do, we move on. We live well, we suffer, we face the knife, we recover, if we are lucky. So many others are not as fortunate and some may wonder, “Why me?”
If you are one of the tough ones, the survivors, give thanks. My mom says we are blessed. But not everyone is. So give thanks, really, truly be grateful.
Turning 70 means we have a lot to do in the 4th Quarter. It doesn’t mean cramming or jamming in a lot of activity. But activity is good. As in staying active, getting out, exploring. Not exploring the world necessarily although that can be important for many. But get those 10,000 steps in if you can. Okay, 5,000 then or 3,000. Move. Laugh. Read. Enjoy meeting with friends and family. Acts of kindness.
Pick up a pen and write, “I had just turned (your age) and was happy about my life…” and see where it takes you. You don’t need an audience to read it, so you don’t need to worry about any mistakes. The audience is you.
I’ve loved my life and there are only one or two things I would change. But if it were all to suddenly end, I can honestly say I have had a great life. I did not get cheated. Of course, I want to go on but, it doesn’t get much better than that.
I do not want to write about this anymore because it means staring at the end and I don’t want to dwell on it. Life is for the living so I will segue the tone of this piece.
There is another parallel thread that runs through this. And that would be the origin story, our coming of age, the beginning of things when we all thought anything was possible and when each of us, as high school students, could not imagine where life would take us. Oh sure, some people had fully formed ideas of themselves, knew what they wanted and what they wanted to become. And although life might have gone as planned (or not), most of us seem to have landed on our feet, if not in the exact same spot.
That is rewarding and a testament to all of my friends. There were turns, sometimes sharp, but often, they led to better outcomes. Not everyone can say that.
In our younger days, the later high-school years, we began setting out into the world, first ventures without parents as we could now drive or had friends who could drive us. The world opened up for us at the same time as the music world was exploding after the British Invasion and American cinema enjoyed a renaissance as the New Hollywood (or American New Wave) directors/auteurs (Scorcese, Coppola, Nichols, Penn) took over from the failing Hollywood studio system. Anything and everything was possible and we devoured it all. Sex and drugs and rock & roll was not confined to music; the movies were becoming even more experimental. 2001: A Space Odyssey, The Graduate, Bonnie & Clyde, Easy Rider, The Godfather are just a handful of examples of the direction American cinema was taking. They moved away from traditional storytelling and explored the angst and unconformity that was driving the soul of the late 1960s. We benefitted from this huge paradigm in the culture as we craved acid rock on our stereos and the shock of anti-war and more openly sexual movies (Shampoo, Bob and Carol, Ted and Alice) in our theaters. We became aware real fast – we were woke before it was a thing!
And it bonded us together even more. After all, we were all in this together. The tensions of a breaking society helped define us all as we were forced to answer questions we hadn’t quite contemplated only a year or so before. The culture was exploding, unraveling, parents were delirious about our futures and we were smack in the middle, lapping it all up. After being sheltered for so long, we began questioning everything. After all, it was our future we were concerned about. Sometimes our parents couldn’t see that, they only saw defiance or disrespect.
But that wasn’t it. It was our graduation from high school to college; or from teen agers to more fully-formed adults. We had had a lot thrust on our plates during this upheaval and Hell, we were now all in.
Our friendships became tighter even though we were all off to college by 1971 or 1972. Instead of drifting away from each other, we drifted toward each other to continue the journey together.
As the 1970s progressed, we remained close and after graduation from college, entered new careers. And it seemed that we continued to feed off of one another as we all advanced to begin achieving success.
Of course, things happened, marriages and later kids, changed the dynamics in friendships. It was no longer as easy to get together. Bonds got tested, some people moved away or moved on.
But many years later, after everything we’d all been through (mostly good), we began feeling the magnet draw us all in a lot tighter. We’d been too tight, we’d seen a lot of other people and we collectively realized the best was right in front of us.
It was time to reconnect and admit that friendships like these are not a given. They are rare and they are valuable and precious.
—–
A few years ago, I purchased a basketball so I could get my eye back. I realized my aim and depth perception had gotten worse so, instead of just watching sports, I began playing them again. I’m still way off but I can now hit a three-pointer here and there. Nothing but net is heavenly. Recently, I began throwing a baseball again. My arm was so weak – and I work out three times per week at the gym. Gym equipment might build your biceps and triceps and other muscles throughout your body. But I found that as strong as those biceps and triceps might become at the gym, try throwing a baseball. For speed. How about for distance or accuracy. Yeah, your arm is all mush when it comes to throwing due to the way arm and shoulder muscles are used in a throwing motion.
So now, as I age, I have to decide if I’m trying out for the Yankees or the Lakers. Nah, I’m just glad to throw or shoot with authority. I don’t care if I can’t make as many baskets; I do care that I may look like a 70 year-old while trying. So, it’s just another state of mind. I don’t need to be 21 again. I just don’t want to look like I throw or shoot like an old man.
There, I said it. The quiet part out loud. Old man. But my mind is sharp, my experience is valuable, my relationships are strong. Oh and yeah, I can throw a baseball around. How fast? Not 80 mph, not by a long shot. That is no longer the goal. The goal is survival on my terms.
All of my friends are in good shape too, and all of us are trim. We take care of our minds and our bodies yet, no one is a workout fanatic. We are all out there living well, enjoying life, accepting what we must and then pushing forward once again. And that is what I am seeing from my high school friends.
And when we do get to enjoy each other during a reunion? It is ever more special.
As I wrote earlier in this piece, we are now in the 4th Quarter. That is not meant to be morbid. Instead it is a spotlight. With the time we have left while we are healthy, we will continue to shine, to laugh, to search out new horizons and adventures. No one wants to listen to us talk about how to fix the world. Hopefully, our kids have listened to us and will pass down our better guidance to their children.
The world waits. But we do not. We’ve got things to do. After all, it’s 5:00 somewhere.
Chris Ebel
9/21/23
Image credit: @nosheep