My honey turned 35 yesterday. The new age feels subtle and yet provocative. At first, it’s like, “ah yeah, we’re just continuing down our 30-somethings paths,” but reflecting on it more, this midpoint of the decade somehow feels like a milestone… and I’m not even the one who’s 35.
John was away for several days last week– he’d returned home to Maryland to visit with the parentals. He came back with a renewed sense of vigor, prompted in part, by witnessing his parents’ lifestyle. It got me thinking again about change– people who welcome and embrace it and people who are either incapable or are resistant. Life can be so random… no matter how good you get at preparing/predicting/anticipating what’s coming down the line, wacky curves, bumps, and obstacles can still arise, and either you’re nimble, or life slowly beats you down.
I had a long conversation recently with my parents. One of their closest friends– the wife– is extremely ill. Our two families grew up together. They had two kids, we had two kids. We went to Disney together, did family trips and such. Several months ago, doctors thought her facial shift was attributed to Bell’s Palsy. A few weeks ago, her condition was diagnosed as stage 4 lung cancer. My parents saw her two months ago before their trip to Taiwan. When they returned, things had completely changed.
On learning the news, I couldn’t contain my anger and frustration: why hadn’t the doctors detected this? (Growing up with a physician father, I NEVER question the competency/judgement of doctors). But these are our family friends– not some random, unfortunate medical story received through hearsay. Wtf? My father tried to explain that the signs for this disease rarely appear before the late stages…
Since our conversation, I’ve been thinking everyday about our friends, hoping things are getting better. In the meantime, I am reminded to take each day as it comes, to feel grateful for the love and support of my family and my friends. I don’t want to dwell on petty things. I can distract myself with frivolous matters for entertainment and for laughter, but I want to stay grounded. I want to delineate clearly what is important.
Over the last several years, I’ve noticed a quiet change in my father: perhaps an unmentioned realization that maybe life isn’t all about working your ass off, about proving your “rightness” over someone else’s “wrongness.” My father has become much more muted in his comments, in his “advice.” He doesn’t fight or argue anymore. The blood doesn’t boil like it used to. I almost liken it to what my instructor told us at the self-defense class: don’t waste your energy fighting and yelling and screaming. Wait to get into the right position, and then when you finally make the move, don’t hold anything back. I suppose my father no longer sweats the little things. It’s a perspective I also need to adopt and practice.
That’s not to say that his brain ever stops churning: he never ceases observing and evaluating. Even if he is more silent and more subdued than his former self, he’s always thinking about how to optimize. Witnessing the declining health of several friends and colleagues, he now prioritizes his health with renewed motivation. He’s watching his diet, he’s walking, he’s staying mentally active while keeping the negative energy in check. He tells me he wants to live for a long time. I’m comforted and relieved to know that he’ll do everything he can to meet that objective. Life might still present the unexpected, but at least he’s proactive about his aim. My mother, on the other hand, lacks the motivation. She wants the same things, but she doesn’t seem pushed to the same extent. Why is that? I don’t know. It’s a constant mystery to me what motivates people: personal experiences? books? movies? My father says he will keep trying to encourage her.
I’ve learned a lot watching my father. It’s not that there aren’t shortcomings, but his strengths really do inspire me to do better.