That's what my best friend from our graduate school days observed during a phone call.
No, the comment didn't come out of no where. I had rung her up for her date of birth and social security number. She was to be the beneficiary for an annuity I was investing in. "
At my age," as the expression goes, members of my family of origin were either dead. Or, as with my sister Anne Murga-Ring, estranged. We hadn't spoken since November 2003.
The cliché out there is that we human beings deny that we are mortal. That's dead wrong.
Over the 2016 holiday season I had spoken with fellow Baby Boomers at parties. For every one, death was a palpable presence.
The focus wasn't religious, as in, is there an afterlife. It was more concrete: On what we will miss not getting up to in the morning. In addition, we wondered how we would die and when.
The internet, of course, continually reinforces that we have fewer years ahead than behind us. It's full of obituaries from all phases of our little lives. Don Draper from "Mad Men" could do a Kodak nostalgia wheel on that.
Professors from graduate school such as the towering Shakespearean scholar John L. Styan died back in his homeland of England.
Millennials who are my clients have never seen a play by Shakespeare and that sure isn't on their bucket list. I wonder if that would have made Styan feel irrelevant.
My first corporate boss Bill Cox is also gone. The last time we had met for dinner in Manhattan he had played with the idea of un-retiring and returning to consulting in public relations. Half-Japanese, he remained in demand for those kinds of Asian-oriented projects. He died from cancer before that happened.
So what will I miss some sunny morning when I am no longer in this dimension?
Blogging heads the list. That has been a ritual since 2005, when marketing expert Toby Bloomberg referred me to Paul Chaney to set up this site. Both, incidentally, are still alive.
Next is taking weekend trips with my dog LOV. That, along with meditation, is what can silence that committee in my head which torments me.
Aside from those two, it will be a relief to no longer have to keep up with the developments in search engine optimization and freak out whenever the car dashboard signals a problem.
Life, it could well be, is over-rated.
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