Saturday, November 28, 2020

What's In a Name?

 In my last post, I noted that anyone who's 85 years old with multiple co-morbidities (morbid obesity, untreated hypertension, diabetes, COPD, etc.) ought not to buy unripe bananas. A friend of mine shared the post, and one of his friends commented that what I said was "cavalier."

Actually, I believe the use of that word, in that context, was cavalier, so let's unpack it.

Webster's definition of the word includes, "lacking proper concern." When it comes to mortality - from the virus or anything else - nothing could be further from the truth, as it applies to me. Anyone who knows me well would confirm that. I care deeply for those susceptible to any illness, to those with any frailty. I care for the least of these, in any regard.

This was my point, and I use it as it relates to me. I'm 62 years old. I'm overweight. I have hypertension, controlled by medication. My diet is less than optimal. My exercise regimen is regular, but not as consistent as I'd like.

I'm a football fan. In the game of life, I'm in the fourth quarter. I'd like to think that it just started, but the reality is that the difference between money and time is that we always know how much money we have, but we never know how much time we have. I could be past the two-minute warning, for all I know.

When I'm 85 - in other words, when I've spent another roughly 37% of the time I've already spent on this earth - I expect to be counting every day God gives me as a blessing to be richly savored. I won't have high confidence that I'll see 86, or 87, or 90, or 98 (as my Grandma did), or 100 (as one of my great uncles did). Each birthday celebration will be a "phew - thank you, God!" moment.

And I care deeply about that. So no one should believe that my comment was in any way related to lacking proper concern. I'm concerned deeply, and I will continue to be, for my own and others' mortality, long after this virus is but a faded memory, which it will be, sooner than you think (unless you allow the media to keep it front and center in your life, in which case, I can only feel sorry for you).

Here's the thing: when it comes to "covid," I have a choice. I can risk losing the 62nd year of my life, or I can risk losing the 85th year of my life. If this thing is still around - or if it, or something like it, comes back - when I'm 85, I'd rather lose that year to it than this year. This year, I'm still relatively young. I'm still relatively vital. I can still work out at the gym, I can still take my dogs on a brisk walk, I can still enjoy my grandkids. At 85, my grandkids will be out of college, maybe married. I doubt I'll belong to a gym. I may be in a care facility.

So I'm not going to stay home this year, and I haven't. My wife has taken six trips with me, more than she has any other year in quite a long while. I've lived life. I've dined out, gone to church, met with friends and family, taken my dogs to the park, flown, gone to the store, and traveled; all since the virus scared everybody into their basements.

And when I am 85, if this or another virus comes along - if I am in a care facility, I hope my family will respect my wishes, and force the facility to allow me out to be with them. I'd rather risk infection, from any disease, no matter its consequences, in order to be in community with those I love, however briefly, than risk dying after many months of not being able to see them, hug them, hold them.

So do I lack proper concern? On the contrary; I am very concerned. When I say that, at 85 and with multiple co-morbidities, I would not buy unripe bananas, it is not a trite statement. It is a testament to how I wish to live my life: as if every day is precious. As if, whatever my age, I won't take an expiration date for granted. That I won't buy a package of meat that expires in ten days taking for granted that I'll be around to enjoy it.

If I can manage to live my life like that - well, I'll have lived a life well-lived.

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