I paid little attention to getting and being older until I reached my seventies. Then I had no choice.
The seventies differ from all the other decades. The changes and challenges to myself and my friends are undeniable. But the rewards and benefits of having amassed decades of learning are also undeniable.
These are treacherous times that require the skill of a tightrope walker to traverse without falling into deep emotional crevices. Balance and joy are daily decisions. And decades have taught the importance of finding happiness amidst the storms.
I began studying death at a young age because I was afraid—terrified, really. My therapist said I had “a phobic fear of dying.”
My obsession with death began when I was nine. As I sang, When you see a hearse go by you know that you are the next to die the words took on new meanings. With the force of a large boulder thrown into my body, I realized I could die. I would no longer exist. Impossible! Yet the thoughts held on and wouldn’t release, especially when I was in bed trying to sleep.
I went to my mother, the knower of all things. “Mom, I’m afraid of dying. Are you afraid of dying?”
“No “ she said. “You grow out of it.”
I waited to grow out of my fear of dying. And I’d just started to come to some reconciliation when my father dropped to the ground dead in our backyard when I was 12. The fear took flight in terms of strength, but never flew away. Instead, it glued itself to me and I obsessed over my demise.
With the logic of a 12-year-old, I scolded myself that since my dad had done it, I shouldn’t be afraid of dying. But I was.
Eventually, I turned towards what scared me the most. I began studying death. Then death, dying, and bereavement. Finding books about death wasn’t easy in the early 1980s. Every book store had a teeny section on Death, and always on the same shelf as the more voluminous books on Sex. Take a pause and consider that connection.
Reading Who Dies? by Stephen Levine was a turning point in terms of how I viewed death and in my decision to make a career out of what I had feared. He posits that since we’re not our bodies, minds, or thoughts, who dies?
I persevered, went to college where I majored in psychology and created a minor in death and dying. Today death and dying is part of many colleges and universities, but it didn’t exist when I was a student.
I’ve worked in the field of death, dying, and bereavement since 1985. Most people think this would be depressing, but it’s been a gift. You see, death and life are intertwined, and death teaches us about living while we’re here. Working with dying and/or grieving adults and children has offered me a front-row seat to the courage and determination people have to live their best lives.
And now, decades later, I’m in my 70s and certainly there’s a diminishing shelf life in how long I’ll live. But I’m fascinated that although death is close, I’m not afraid. I probably will be if I get a terminal diagnosis. And I would be if someone were trying to kill me.
But after so many years spent brooding about dying, that’s not even close to how I now live. And maybe it’s because, like those people I’ve seen in my work, some part of me understands I don’t have time to brood and lose the opportunity to enjoy the present.
Life has taught, and continues to remind me to embrace each day for the miracle and gift it is. Something to never take for granted.
Instead of thinking old, I wonder what can I create next? I’m shy and introverted, but this year, I challenged myself to try new things. Despite not feeling well, I finished a new memoir, started playing pickleball, and joined our local Newcomers where I met new friends.
Starting this Substack newsletter was a daring step that has become a gift I hadn’t expected when I started. As I share with you, I learn about myself. I recognize that writing these short essays is a form of meditation. When I write, I’m ageless and never falter or wonder what was I thinking. If I stop to search for a word, it’s not because I forgot but because I’m searching for the best word to express what I want to convey.
As I face more health challenges and witness what my husband and friends are dealing with, I am inspired and more determined to live my best life in spite of and because of.
Every day I challenge myself to enjoy my day no matter what by finding gratitude even in the weeds.
We never know if what we think is our worst day may turn out to be the last best day we’ll have.
Now it’s your turn. Please share how you’ve made it through your worst times. What did you learn? What can you teach us? How have you found your joy?
Thank you for sharing!
You asked and I will share. Over the past 4+ years, I came very close several times to having my lights turned off forever but, fortunately, the switch was not available. What I found was that life is precious and to enjoy and learn from each day that the light remains on. Yes, it can be difficult at times but, that’s life! I try to look at each new day as my new favorite day.
This is such a great article. You are a wit! And deeper than the sky. So wise, gracious and funny. Ginni, I’m glad you share your wisdom with us. You show up, just as you are, with no pretense. Nothing but your naked soul.
I’m not afraid of dying. I can’t wait for the next adventure!