Life’s Too Short
Boarding a passenger airplane is always a bit frustrating for me. Everyone seems to be in such a hurry to get to their seat so that they can sit and wait for twenty minutes, I guess I don’t get it. When I got on the airplane that I’m on as I write this, there was a lady getting her young daughters situated and they were blocking the aisle. The gentleman in front of me was growing very impatient with the process and didn’t try to hide it. Finally the girls were settled in and the overhead bins were stuffed appropriately so we moved on. As I passed the mother she apologized and I responded that I thought life was too short to be in a hurry.
I’ve been sitting here for twenty minutes now thinking about what I told her. I’ve noticed lately that I’ve been aware of my aging more than usual. I’m not really sure why I’m thinking about it but I’ve grown somewhat fascinated with the endless number of ways that my chronological advancement keeps popping up. Let me give you a some examples.
Very few major league baseball teams play in the stadiums they did when I was a boy watching baseball so I guess that means I’ve outlived some professional sports venues.
Most of the kids at the latest Star Wars movie weren’t alive when I experienced the original with my dad.
My mother told me last night about a young lady at their church who has three children - I used to be that young lady’s baby sitter.
The first car I ever owned can now be registered as an antique in most states.
The bands advertised on the casino billboards are all bands I listened to as a teenager and the billboard pictures look like ads for a new nursing home.
I recently went to my little girls’ eighth grade graduation ceremony and it finally set in that she wasn’t a little girl anymore.
I recently chaperoned an eighth grade field trip out of town. As the bus sped down the highway it suddenly dawned on me that I was actually supposed to be the responsible adult. Most of my friends would say that was letting the wolf guard the hen house but I did my best.
The airplane I fly is referred to as a tired old workhorse and if you look at the registration, the airplane and I were born the same year.
But here’s the one that got my attention. My daughter had her first “boyfriend” this year at school. I use that term loosely because she is only 14. However, emotions do run strong at 14 (I’m not too old to remember that) and this guy is a good young man. A couple of weeks ago when school finished for the year this young man and his family moved to Virginia and my little girl was very sad. We had a going away party at our place with the whole gang from school and the kids had a lot of fun. But when the party was over I went to talk to my daughter and she curled up in my lap and cried. Big, sad tears from a young heart being broken. I spent a few minutes letting her know that life was full of moments where good people leave us. Sometimes to leave the state and sometimes to go home to Jesus. I told her that hard as it was, this was a good life lesson and that it wouldn’t hurt as much next time because she’ll have some perspective - she’ll know that the pain doesn’t last forever.
She’s doing well now and I’m sure she’ll be fine. I’ve been thinking about that moment for a couple of weeks. All I keep coming up with is “Oh my - I’m the adult here”. I can’t be old enough to be the adult. What kind of world would let someone like me have that kind of responsibility? It seems to be a responsibility that comes with age and I seem to be having more age lately than I like to think about. I don’t want to be old. Trying to figure out why it bothers me is a challenge. I’m not afraid to die really, I’m not in a hurry mind you, I’m just not afraid. I think the reason I don’t want to be old is that I’m enjoying the ride and don’t want to get off. I love spending time with my wife and my kids so I don’t like to think about that ending. There’s a million places I want to see before I check out too.
I’ll quit rambling here. I really don’t sit around worrying about this, I’ve just noticed lately that life moves faster and faster. I think I’ll keep trying to take the time to soak in most of it. Life’s too short to be in a hurry.
Good lesson. I keep rushing around to finish “this one last task” so I can then relax and be present with those around me. Next thing I know, a decade has rolled by … and then another. Blink, blink … year, year.
Maybe inner/outer age disparity is a universal feeling? I’m barely 16 on the inside, yet young as I feel —
I’m 6 years older than MLK ever got
I’m 2 years older than JFK was when elected president, and next year will become older than he ever got
I think of these guys as heroic — what if people look at me, now the same age they were, and expect anything even slightly heroic? Yikes.
I turned 39 while taking a seminary class about King. I’d spent the semester studying and admiring his courage, insight, words, and actions — and then realized “I’m the same age he was when he died!” After processing that thought, the next one was, inevitably, “What have I done with my 39 years?”
Humble pie, yum.
— Mike Jun 11, 05:21 PM #