Back in 1968, when he was in his mid-20s, Paul Simon wrote Old Friends, a song recorded by he and Art Garfunkel on their Bookends album. It ponders the relentless passing of time, and asks:
“Can you imagine us years from today / Sharing a park bench quietly?”
And then adds: “How terribly strange to be seventy.”
A few weeks ago, Paul Simon turned 75. A few days ago, I turned 70. Sharing a park bench quietly? Not quite my style, although I will admit that sitting and doing very little, or napping during the day, is much more attractive now than a few years ago.
Terribly strange to be 70? Not at all; it was a day like most others because birthdays have never been huge events in our family.
I did find, though, that this one has given me a bit more pause than previous ones. Perhaps it’s because I have now lived longer than my father, who died of cancer at the age of 69. And longer than my brother, who met the same fate at age 65.
Perhaps it’s because when I was in my 20s, and still thinking that 70 was really really old (and maybe terribly strange), I came to the conclusion that if we, as humans, can squeeze out 60 good years, we would be lucky, and anything more is a bonus.
So 60 became a milestone which I do remember passing, and thinking, “Bonus years!”
And now 70. Definitely not old by today’s standards, but when we get there, it is obvious that there is much more in our past than we can reasonably anticipate in the future.
We all, at some point in life, come to the realization of our own mortality. When we are young, death is not top of mind, it is far in the future, of little concern. But things happen – the loss of family at too young an age, the loss of friends and colleagues, the loss of young people we know, or whose parents we know.
It hits home: it will happen to me. Maybe sooner. Maybe later. That doesn’t scare me, nor does it come to mind often, other than when some smartass says, “Damn, you’re old”.
Old? Nope. I prefer to think of it as mature. Seasoned. Vintage. Experienced. Enduring. Young-at-heart-if-not-body. As of today, which is all I know for sure, life goes on. So I celebrate today, and look forward to tomorrow and all it will bring, good and otherwise.
I will smile when I hear Simon and Garfunkel sing “How terribly strange to be seventy” on SeriusXM’s Classic Vinyl channel. I will be thinking, “How terribly good to be seventy.”
I definitely won’t be humming along with Peggy Lee when she sings, “Is that all there is?”
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