My grandfather turns 80 today. He has lived three and a half times longer than I have… He saw a massive world war, and the Vietnam war- undoubtedly watching many friends leave home and never return. Learning how to say goodbye in a more permanent sense. He married a wonderful woman at the age of nineteen and had three fiesty daughters with whom he fought about first dates, allowances, playing records too loudly. They made him laugh. He’s laughed thousands of times but seldom cried- at least to anyone’s knowledge. He is a tall, skinny, quiet man and he loves dogs. I venture to guess that he has spent over a year of his life caring for his slobbery friends. He was a game warden- he loves nature and he spent his life protecting it. He makes duck decoys for hunters as a hobby now- meticulously painting each feather onto a handcarved wooden specimen- as they appear on the water, line by line. My grandfather believes in rules. He has never put his socks on before his underwear, he wakes up and goes to bed early, and he followed his doctor’s orders to treat his cancer with a great sense of exactitude… And that gave him eighty years. Eighty years of dog loving, duck painting, nature conserving, law respecting life. Eighty years of terrible and wonderful.
It’s easy to forget that you could live that long. And how quickly “that long” passes by… Only so many moments- might be important to live in them.
I will say, however, that I’m planning on living at least that long. I want to live long enough to listen to oldies on the radio and be reminded of a high school dance and to curse myself for not wearing sunscreen. And maybe get a hovercar. And watch google take over the world- let’s be honest they know everything about everyone. Cheers.
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