TickTock

My father lost a good friend he had worked with for many years.  They didn’t hang out much together outside of the workplace, but that did not lesson their friendship.  They worked all day together, went to lunch together every day and I am sure they shared all their woes along with all the happy moments each went through during the hours they weren’t at the office.  This was many many years ago but something my father said to me at the time has been packed away somewhere deep in my head…until recently.  As he grieved quietly about the loss of his friend he told me that you know time is getting short when your peers begin to die.  Nothing particularly profound there, but now that my peers and those of my wife are doing just that…well, suddenly my dad’s comment has surfaced and it carries a lot more meaning to me now than it did the 30-or-so years ago when he shared his thoughts with me.  One of my wife’s former schoolmate’s just last week took it upon herself to publish a list on Facebook of some 20 of their classmates who are no longer answering rollcall, in school or otherwise.  As she read the list on her iPad, my wife’s hands appeared to quiver even a bit more than is usually attributed to her onslaught of Parkinson’s.  

It’s true, the clock ticks louder lately and the months, then years, seem to smear more rapidly into each other’s borders, one after the other…relentlessly.   But I am one of the lucky ones.  My wife and I have been best buddies for almost 60 years—married for 54 of them.  These are the toughest times we’ve faced and I am sure things will continue as such.  But there are gestures and mentions and even a few almost indetectable vibes that tell us our presence here has not gone unnoticed.  Our youngest grandchild hoping, insisting our semi-dysfunctional family will join together once more for Thanksgiving dinner hosted, as usual, by MomMom and PopPop.  And, yes, I do the  cooking.   And, meanwhile, the phone rings every day with a friend or family member checking in, sometimes just to see how we are doing, others seeking our world-famous sage advice on everything from medical disorders to dating therapy. 

So despite the ticks and tocks that are compelled to continually creep up behind us, there are still many kodak moments ahead.  My mother always quoted Robert Browning:  “Grow old along with me, the best is yet to be.”  It’s one of the few things I disagreed with her.  My dad, in yet another cherished moment of wisdom, or maybe it was whimsy, was more succinct.  He simply told me, “growing old stinks!”   

*****

About Marc Kuhn

I am a retired radio exec. I've worked at major stations in Philadelphia, Washington, D.C. and Miami. That was then. This is now: I've published seven books and this blog thingy. Need to know more? Really? Okay, I bare/bear all at http://marckuhn.com The other links are for the websites of each of the books I've written. I've been busy! Hope you'll stop by and check them out. Thanks for your interest!
This entry was posted in aging, death, Family, health, lifestyle, love, medical, nostalgia and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

1 Response to TickTock

  1. Marc Kuhn says:

    Sebastian: just a quick thanks for your loyal following…your site is rich and bountiful and I wish you best of luck keeping up with its volume…remember it was also Poe who wrote “never more!”

    Like

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