LIFE, an essay.

Today, I’m sharing something very personal from my book: Exploring the Midlife Career Crisis: Navigating the Four Stages of Career Transition. During the Covid pandemic, I wrote the following essay entitled “LIFE” that was inspired by the grandfather I never met.

LIFE

As far back as I can remember, I knew my mom’s father died when she was only 5. It took me a lot longer to think about this from her perspective. In the meantime, as I sketched family trees during elementary school, all I knew was that her stepfather was the man I called Grandpa. He was always Grandpa Phil to me, and that’s all that mattered. He was loving, warm, and as it turns out, an absolute rock for my mom and grandmother when they really needed one. Grandpa Bucky, on the other hand, would never go by that name. He died 20 years before my mom became a mother herself.

So, in my childhood, knowing this, I thought about death. Not a lot. I wasn’t a kid who worried much. I always had a zest and carefree appreciation for life. And maybe that’s why — because I knew of death. I don’t think that attitude magically started after watching Robin Williams’ dramatic “Carpe Diem” speech in Dead Poets Society.

As I approached my 30s, I thought about this more. Bucky had died at age 35. Was that my possible expiration date? He died of a heart attack. Was I feeling chest pains? My children were in their single digits then. Same as my mom when she lost her father. That was when I began to worry. Not every day. But, as a father, I had so much more to lose. Potentially not seeing my children grow up created a fear in my heart and mind that didn’t go away.

So I started eating better, running more, and by age 37, I had outlived my grandfather and felt better than when I was 35 — truly living in bonus time. Aimee and I got back to traveling. I didn’t miss many soccer, baseball, or basketball games. I made a promise to myself that I would see the kids at least once a day, either before work or before bedtime. Thank goodness I had a job with bosses who understood this priority. I did travel some for work, but the kids always had Aimee or their grandparents to lean on. I gradually felt less guilt when I was away, knowing we were building a critical nest egg for their future.

Now in my 40s, I’ve witnessed my parents aging. Fortunately, they moved to Atlanta a few years ago, and we’ve been able to spend many more holidays and moments together that I believe have furthered our love and appreciation for each other.

In a sudden scary moment this past January, my dad nearly died. I took my turns at the hospital and watched him persevere through some very rough days and nights. At one point, he was experiencing multiple organ failure, and by some grace, his life was spared, and he continues to gain strength. He’s amazingly even gotten back to his swimming routine a few days per week. Being able to join him for a short walk on a random Tuesday afternoon has taken on new meaning.

Now, as I turn 50, I don’t sense any particular expiration date, but I do still think about death. I’m at an age when that reality is real. There are no pretenses of perpetuity.

The only natural response to death is life. Purpose, pleasure, passion. Every day. Dedication to a purported legacy — a positive impact on society through people. My amazing kids foster goodwill and the genuine values that make any parent proud. I respect and appreciate my wife, Aimee, the best partner and friend anyone could ever have. So, as I reflect on this unpredictable journey, no matter how it started, I choose to live. In the poetic words of Craig Sager as he stared down his mortality, “Time is simply how you live your life.”

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