I had the privilege of attending a wedding recently and sitting next to a 92-year-old man. He was a friend’s Dad and he was certainly not what I would picture when I think 92 years. He was in good shape, had great hearing, didn’t wear glasses, and was complaining that the wine wasn’t sweet enough.
At the risk of being rude, I asked him what his secret was. “What secret?” he barked. “The secret to being 92 years old.” “Oh, that,” he answered quickly, as though he’s asked all the time – which I’m sure he is. “The secret is to be careful and live a good life.”
He went on to tell me some stories about his time in the military but my mind kept whirling around those few words: “Live a Good Life.” Not – take your vitamins, run 3 miles a day, avoid sugar, don’t drink alcohol, don’t smoke, stay away from cheeseburgers, or jump through hoops to look younger than you are. Simply “Live a Good Life.”
“What does that look like?” I thought. “Am I doing it right now?”
I’ve become achingly aware lately that I am not immortal. And yet there’s so much left to do. See the pyramids, learn to play the piano, read all of the classics, watch Monty Python a few hundred more times, deliver flowers to ladies in nursing homes and cookies to the men, find an amazing red dress and wear it, dance in the middle of the street, learn the constellations, learn Spanish, lie on the beach and listen to the waves, learn how to read palms and how to milk a cow. So much!
Whether I have five years left or 50, I’ll strive to make the most of it so that when I’m at the end, I can say that I too, lived a good life.