“Death is not the
opposite of life,
but a part of it.” 
~ Haruki Murakami

Several years ago, I attended a weekend retreat on the topic of Conscious Aging. At the first session on Friday evening, participants were given a sheet of paper with eighty blank squares — eight rows of ten squares each. We were directed to put an “X” in each square, beginning at the top of the page, for each year of our life. As we marked each box, we were challenged to recall one memory from that particular year of our life. This was a therapeutic activity for me. 

If I remember correctly, I was 64-years-old when I attended the retreat, therefore, after completing the task, I was left with sixteen empty squares on my paper. One of the participants asked the presenter what he should do, as he had marked all eighty boxes. The presenter replied, “Be grateful!”

It was a bit sobering to see that visual image of how much of my life I had already lived and how seemingly little remained, yet I was well aware that my death could come at any time. Did I have sixteen years left in my life that evening, or did I have only six weeks? There was no way to know.

As I approach my 70th birthday in June, I don’t feel old. I’m quite possibly in the best physical condition since my college years. Despite this reality, my prognosis has not changed since that Friday night of the retreat. There’s just no way to know how much longer I’ll be alive.

As the graphic above clearly indicates, according to the United States Center for Disease Control & Prevention in 2021, the average life expectancy for an American male is 73.5 years. It’s important to acknowledge that this number is the average life expectancy, so many men live considerably longer.

My paternal grandfather passed away in 1961 at the age of 74. My maternal grandfather passed away in 1968 at the age of 74. Hmmm… My father, however, died accidentally at the age of 82. He outlived his father and father-in-law by eight years. If I outlive my Dad by eight years, I’ll live to the age of 90. Given the health care available today, that’s a very real possibility, but there’s no way to know, right?

I don’t worry about death. I honestly believe I’ve lived a good, complete life. I experienced a fairly normal childhood, I received an excellent education, I enjoyed a 43-year career as an educator, and I’ve published a few books in my retirement. I married the love of my life, raised three wonderful sons, and now I’m enjoying being “Papa” to five beautiful grandkids. If I were to die tomorrow, it would not be tragic. I’ve lived my life to the fullest.

There is simply no way for me to know how much longer I’ll live. The challenge, therefore, is to live each day as if it were my last. I’m working hard to nurture my relationships with family and friends. I’m making a conscious effort to express my gratitude to those who have cared for me throughout my life. I make sure the bills are paid, that Kathy knows all the details of our finances, and that my affairs are in order. I’ve even gone so far as to prepay all our funeral services, including the purchase of niches at the local cemetery for our cremains. Some might consider this to be morbid. I prefer to think of it as being practical.  

As age 70 inches closer day by day, I am grateful to have lived this long. I’m not in any hurry to die. I’m enjoying life too much right now. There is no other age I would prefer to be, and I’m not in any hurry to check-out just yet. There’s still so much to do!