Take the Vacation. Those are the words of advice passed along by a 90-year-old friend at his birthday party recently. I can’t believe Mr. Howard is 90 years old, but that’s the way it is with people who just never seem to age on the inside. Sure, he can’t hear very well and walks a bit stooped over, but he has one of the sharpest minds I’ve ever seen and I very much want to follow his advice because he must know something I don’t. Especially if it’s as simple as taking a vacation. Well, if you insist.
Mr. Howard enrolled in just about every senior adult computer class I taught for many years. He thought there was always something new to learn. And he was right. I’ve never known anyone so intent on learning and yet with so many deep questions. He ponders the size of the universe and wonders how atoms work. He muses about the Bible and imagines eternity. Obviously, I’m not equipped to answer most of his questions or even engage in intelligent conversation, but I have taught him how to google, so he looks up much of the info himself. Some questions even Google can’t answer, though.
Take the Vacation. Simple words from a very complex man, but words that stress the value of kicking back, disconnecting, and spending quality time with those we love. This complex man, who served in the Navy and earned a pilot’s license, flew a Cessna a few days ago in celebration of his 90th birthday and intends to skydive with his wife on their next anniversary before renewing their vows upon landing. I don’t think she has agreed yet, but I can tell she wants to. You can find him most mornings at McDonalds having coffee with the retired crowd of tall tale tellers. He mostly just listens.
Live Life. That’s a paraphrase of the advice given by Aunt Ruth, my mother’s sister, during the last couple of years of her life. At the last family reunion she was able to attend, when she was already slipping down the one-way path to dementia, she and I picked up a milkshake at the local drive-thru. On the way back, she mused out loud about her happiest moments. “You know,” she softly said, as if to herself, “we often didn’t have two nickels to rub together, but we lived.” She smiled, mentally revisiting a happier time when she and her husband traveled the world and grew a family. “We lived.”
Aunt Ruth would leave dirty dishes in the sink in a heartbeat if there was a cup of coffee and a front porch swing and a sunset available. She weathered rocky patches in her life with faith that there was another side and that there was always something more important and life-giving than any temporary current circumstances. She left one lifestyle for another, to share with her husband the joy of restarting a family farm—in her 70’s. She laughed often and she usually laughed first. She lived.
If You Cross the Bridge Before You Get to It, You Pay the Toll Twice. Life is definitely not always a picnic and there are all sorts of causes for concern. Anyone with children has spent plenty of frantic moments worried about their offspring’s whereabouts and imagining any number of poorly ending scenarios. In fact, you don’t even have to have kids in order to worry. From global warming to whether you left the curling iron plugged up, you can easily occupy your mind with angst.
I’m not sure whether he has always lived with his own advice, but my dad is quick to suggest that much is out of our control and that worrying won’t always help things or change an outcome. His mother-in-law, my grandmother, was probably the basis for his mantra. She spent a lot of time worrying. She was dead certain that someone would be hiding behind the evergreen bushes beside the walkway to our house, ready to jump out and grab my mom when she returned from teaching her night classes. Sitting bolt upright in the Naugahyde easy chair on the nights she spent with us, Big Mama stewed in obvious agony until Mama walked in the door, having survived any ill-intentioned attempt on her well being. Even so, my grandmother lived to near 90, so worry didn’t kill her, at least not for a long while. Still, if you’re going to pay the toll anyway, why pay it early and why pay it twice?
Don’t Burn a Bridge if You Can Help It. You Might Have to Cross it Again. Speaking of bridges, this one is almost too simple for all except the most hotheaded among us. Burning bridges is just not a good thing. It’s always best to leave a little wiggle room in case you’re not quite as smart as you thought you were. That’s how my father-in-law would break it down for his son when he knew he was headed to the point of no return, which was probably pretty often. That is, before I arrived to provide a bit of ballast for his boat. He’s on a pretty even keel now and burning very few bridges, thanks to a very smart dad and a very patient wife.
You Have Two Ears and Only One Mouth. That’s So You Can Listen a Lot More Than You Speak. More words of wisdom from a well-grounded father-in-law who left this earth far too early. I’m sure I could have learned a lot more from him. The art of listening is way more difficult than it sounds, but it can absolutely set you apart if you practice it well. I’m not certain why he felt compelled to emphasize to his only son the necessity of listening, as I’ve never found his son to be a poor listener. A little short on the uptake, maybe, but I think he hears me the second or third time, as is the case in most marriages that are in the double digits. And I’m a patient wife.
I don’t think my father-in-law finished high school, as he was called into service during WWII, but I can just about guarantee that his survival there was due in large part to listening well and saying no more than necessary. That, and most likely divine intervention and really good fortune. As a quiet person by nature, I’m pretty good at thinking before I speak, as I know that he was, but that’s just a gift of nature. Some, who are quicker on the draw (or tongue), just have to work harder at it than others.
Love. This one shouldn’t even have to be listed. It should just be nature. I have a friend from high school who has turned out to be one of the most optimistic, happy just to be here, people I know. Well, actually, what I know of him now I see on Facebook, but he’s still my friend. That’s what Facebook says. He often gently chastises those who are intent on espousing extreme political views and distaste for politicians by encouraging them just to love. I know it’s easy to hide behind social media so that your true self isn’t on display, but even if that’s the case, I take inspiration from his simplistic approach to just about every entanglement.
His most recent post was of sunset over the river. It read “Only boat on the lake. Sunset…Blessed…Love.” Just love.
You Don’t Always Have to be First. Like me, my mom used very few words. She knew you got in less trouble if you listened more and talked less, so she didn’t leave any succinct quotes to carry me forward. But she gave me advice nonetheless. Advice that I learned by simply watching her. I learned that it isn’t necessary to seek the limelight all the time. It’s just fine to be a supporting character. Being humble does not mean you’re weak. It just means you recognize that everyone has value and you’re not the best of the best all the time.
You can play backup to a spouse occasionally or even a lot. You can do kitchen duty on children’s night at church. You can cheer others on and hang out in the peanut gallery sometimes. You can inspire and encourage and serve and just be a safety net to those you care about. Quiet strength is not an oxymoron. She wore it well and we’re so much the better for it.
Laugh. If I could give just one word of advice, I think that would be it. It’s true that laughter is not always appropriate and there are a lot of things in this world that are not at all funny or inspiring or positive. But precisely because that is true, I think it’s pretty important to find humor wherever we can and not take ourselves too seriously. Having fun, staying positive, and being encouraging might be a better way to give the advice I’m trying to articulate, but I prefer just one word—laugh.
Laughter from the deepest part of your core; laughing so hard your stomach hurts and your face feels frozen in place is a very good thing. To the astonishment of our teenaged and older kids, my best friend cousin and I recently took a joy ride on a couch-shaped float titled “Big Mable,” a name I admittedly wasn’t too fond of, which was cabled behind a speeding jet ski piloted by my daughter. We laughed hysterically from the moment the rope tightened and we launched until we sailed back to the pier and stumbled ashore. We laughed so hard that words wouldn’t come, but I think we were still breathing. It was hard to tell. Whoever said laughter is the best medicine was really on to something.
Be Grateful. I’ve saved the best for last. If I could teach my children only one skill, expecting it to carry them the furthest in this life, I’d insist that they learn thankfulness. In fact, I’ve already done that. I only hope they listened. Just say thank you and mean it. No one is owed anything. No one has to open doors for you or pack your lunch. You’ve come this far in life because others cared enough to help you along the way and they’ll be a lot more likely to continue if you thank them for it. And yes, that does mean keeping nice stationery on hand for the requisite thank you note when it is called for.
Thanking your Creator for another day on this earth would be an excellent way to begin each day, as well. Living life to its fullest, loving others, keeping worry at bay, staying humble, laughing often, and refraining from burning those bridges is just about the best collection of advice I can imagine putting together and living by.
Well, that and taking the vacation. You should never forget about that vacation. Thank you, Mr. Howard.
