“Don’t plant your bad days. They grow into weeks. The weeks grow into months. Before you know it, you got yourself a bad year. Take it from me – choke those little bad days. Choke ’em down to nothing.”
~ Tom Waits
I’ve been listening to The Beatles song “When I’m 64” since I was 8 years old.
Back then, 64 seemed a million miles away. Heck, even my Bar Mitzvah seemed way off in the distance.
Childhood is a time of endless summers, long stretches between Christmas break and Spring Break and dreams of what you’ll be when you grow up.
My friends and I would sit in our rooms or shoot hoops in our driveways talking about becoming lawyers, doctors, center fielders and pro tennis players. The possibilities were endless even if the probabilities weren’t.
After all, there are not too many center fielders who can’t hit a curveball.
When the Fab Four sang about whether they would still be needed when they were 64, they were decades from that time of life. Today, the two surviving Beatles are in their 80s and the two late Beatles never made it to 60, never mind 64.
The protagonist of their timeless song was portrayed as doddering, wondering whether they would still be worthy of a valentine or a bottle of wine.
I’m going to be 62 this week. Fortunately , I don’t have those concerns. I’ve been lucky in love and I’m pretty sure if I asked nicely, my wife would join me with a glass of wine, if not a bottle.
The 60s are an interesting decade. In many ways I feel at the top of my game. I can draw on forty plus years of career experience and that’s been helpful as I’ve reinvented myself yet again this time as a philanthropy exec/playwright. That’s quite an interesting combo if I say so myself.
At 62, I feel I’m still evolving, still learning and still discovering the joy of new experiences.
And yet, I can feel age creeping up. I feel good, but there are days when I have aches and pains and my energy level and desire to run around has significantly diminished.
Instead, at the end of a hard day at work, I dream of my easy chair and playing with my two dogs. My idea of an exciting Saturday night is a quiet early dinner and Netflix.
But I still have aspirations; for the foundation I co-lead and for my playwriting which has been a joyous and collaborative experience. Both were complete surprises proof that as you age can discover, grow, learn and hopefully make a difference.
After a dozen years in business post Delray politics, philanthropy has enabled me to return to community work in a different and much less stressful way. I didn’t see any of it coming.
Six years ago, I struggled to survive a vicious bout with Covid. While I never stopped fighting, I remember feeling for the first time in my life that I may not survive. Isolated from loved ones, I had lots of time to think about my life.
What did it add up to? Did I do my best? Was I good to people? Did I contribute? Was I a good dad, son, husband, brother, friend etc?
As the virus attacked my lungs, those thoughts gave way to mere survival. Just keep breathing I thought. One gasp at a time.
When Covid finally let me go, I went back to the deep thoughts. Many patients I went in with at the time did not come out. Why did I make it?
I suffered what my friend the late Delray police officer Skip Brown called “survivor’s guilt “ and what a counselor told me was PTSD, common for people who spend extended time in the ICU.
I was thrilled to be home with my family. But something felt off, it’s hard to describe.
Gradually, the fog lifted and my strength returned with the help of physical therapy and my own desire to heal.
I resolved at the time to make whatever quality time I have left matter.
In the subsequent years, I’ve taken Tom Waits’ advice. I do not “plant “ bad days. And I have them.
I have a restless mind, it’s hard for me to shut off completely. I’m also a terrible sleeper. So when I wake up in the wee hours my mind will often engage.
And most times it wanders to my worries. I know I am not alone. I try and feel what I’m feeling but I don’t let myself stay in those dark places. Like most people my age, I have the usual share of stressors—aging relatives and friends, health conditions in my circle that scare me and the usual concerns about my kids, our country and our world.
I know I am not alone. And that’s why I share my thoughts in this space. When I had Covid, when I was able to, I shared my experience on social media. It helped connect me to my community. That community healed me. I was also hoping to educate those willing to listen.
It wasn’t political. It was testimony.
Since then, I have lost many important people in my life.
Close friends gone to soon from cancer, Alzheimer’s and heart disease.
A woman I loved like a second mom, civic heroes and mentors and a man who changed my life and entrusted me to help lead his philanthropy so that his generosity and kindness could benefit people for generations to come.
These losses sting. You never quite get over them and honestly I don’t want to.
Because I’ve learned that death ends a life but it does not end a relationship and these wonderful people will continue to shape and guide me for the rest of my days.
As I grow older, there are sure to be other losses. I dread that unavoidable part of life.
But love and loss focus me. I’m still open for growth and experiences. Still open to loving and learning and more appreciative of the good things in life than ever.
The love of a good woman.
The comfort that we’ve raised good kids.
The warm embrace of a family.
The joy of friends old and new.
The adoring gaze of my two adorable dogs.
I love Florida winters and the Maine coast.
When I type End Of Play, I feel a sense of accomplishment. When we call a grantee with good news it’s a thrill I can’t describe. There’s nothing like saying we believe in you, here’s some resources to bring some good into a world that needs it desperately.
And when I find that easy chair at the end of the day it feels like home.
Im so grateful to be on this email receiving all your thoughts Jeff. Thank you and please keep this string going. Im the baby of my family and they are all gone now, but I find that life is so amazing when you stay in gratitude❣️ We’re in Seattle and we just spent the evening with my stepson who I helped raise from my previous life. He and his wife flew into meet us and spend the day together. For me these are those special moments ❣️
Thanks Stacey. Enjoy that special time in Seattle. I appreciate your kind words. Jeff
Jeff, you never, ever cease to amazing me. Your writing touches my soul. I am blessed to have you in my life. So is everyone else. Happy Birthday Week! Elise
I feel the same way about you. ❤️