Don’t Blame the Reaper
How many lives have you lived? If you are in your 20’s then you may assume just one but I’d argue that you have just completed your first leg of the journey and are embarking on the next. I suppose describing different stages of life as “lives” may be a bit dramatic but for many this is exactly how they choose to reflect on circumstances as they reminisce their experiences after a few decades. Truth be told, one’s perspective on everything changes constantly as their philosophy and experiences are added to. The more diverse and challenging an experience the more it may have a profound effect on perspective and, not only how the world is viewed, but also oneself. This is good, this is emotional and intellectual maturity. It also includes the ways that we cope with tragedy, sorrow, suffering and death. Death is the only guarantee at birth; not joy, not suffering, just mortality. So we must learn to face death as part of life, and for some this comes sooner than later. Not that there is “justice” to anything that happens personally to us or even balance that ‘good’ happens more than ‘bad’ or the opposite. The simple fact is that often we cannot control the experiences that trigger these emotions. They are unpredictable and how we react to them relies largely on our experiences in life.
As you age you gather more experience and this also includes loss. The reason that last passage discussed the topic of death is because of the fact that as you grow older the “count” increases. If you are fortunate, you may reach 20 and only suffer the passing of a grandparent, distant relative or family friend. Most definitely a beloved family pet. Losing a member of the immediate family is different and will affect the individual with the most emotional impact. Even young children who may not understand how to grieve may approach the occurrence with disbelief, even denial only to come to grips with the impact of loss years later in life. The simple fact is that as we age we learn to adapt and handle tragedy and loss differently. Often this is through becoming more jaded and stoic in order to protect ourselves from being hurt too much, or to project an image of strength. Absolutely some deaths will resonate more. A favorite uncle or aunt, close friend, or a parent. You are never actually “prepared” for the next announcement, only experienced with past loss and braced with the strength of knowing that there will always be another day for you. I have a saying: funerals and memorials are not for the dead, they are for the living.
The Roaring Twenties
Although it seems difficult to understand when you are young, life will change if you are fortunate to live long. The saying that “youth is king” is not for nothing although it does not take into consideration common sense or wisdom. The young and healthy find boundless restraint in engaging in activities that courage and curiosity allows. Activities that include high risk and require strength and stamina are but an afterthought to the seemingly immortal body of a 20-30 year old. These lifestyles lead to experiences for the pure adrenaline rush and immediate gratification, often with few or no negative repercussions in the best of circumstances. Why shouldn’t the young take these risks? The human body will only provide this versatility for a finite period of time. My 20’s and well through my early 40’s were spent somewhat recklessly in pursuit of enjoyable experiences. Many alcohol fueled weekends and vacations filled with plenty of company and laughter are now just a blur as one would expect. The pictures, cards and mementoes cluttering shoeboxes are the remaining proof that we indeed lived the experiences that memories sometimes fail to reinforce.
I was fortunate and foolish enough to live this type of lifestyle out with not one but two groups of friends. The first round happened as I concluded grammar school and began the first foray into collegiate academics. All the elements were in place to sabotage any semblance of responsibility or accountability and I eagerly drank from any vessel that did not contain knowledge or responsibility. After all, I was 18 and just beginning what I refer to as “the immortal stage”. There was so much to take in now that the leash of adolescence had been removed. I could join the army, buy smokes, had easy access to alcohol and there were girls (more on this later). Most notable was that I was living the post high school fantasy of having parents traveling abroad in Europe for a year (yes this really does happen!). As one may assume I made quite a few friends that year and in doing so came away with the recognition that not only was I extremely fortunate but also that I was forging friendships to last a lifetime. That we did not manage to burn down my parent’s house is little more than a miracle but I did learn the valuable skills of how to react when the police show up at your house at midnight. I’m pretty sure that they increased neighborhood watch on my street specifically for my house alone.
I also sacrificed years of college tuition for endless weekends filled with hazy basements, beer bong contests and debauchery that remains the stuff of legend within my circle of friends. Amazingly, I still have many of these same friends and we stay in good contact unless geographically separated. That this stretch of my life led to few if any tragic consequences is both notable and seemingly incredulous. Virtually no one I knew in my early 20’s suffered close family losses, grievous injury, or death. In addition it was the last decade that Americans didn’t have to worry; it was the 1990’s. The specters of war in American history had faded, even the most recent war in the Middle East carried less burden than Vietnam. The economy was stable, climate change was not a highly publicized threat yet and the entire decade seemed like a celebration of the past century as it raced towards the year 2000. When I reflect on 2023’s post-9/11, post pandemic, politically dysfunctional world there is no hesitation which decade I would rather live in if I could experience a time loop scenario. The 90’s had it all and we knew it even though we could not have predicted the decades to follow.
Boozy School Dropout
With the 90’s in full swing and my parent’s European adventures coming to an end, it was immediately apparent that I had wasted at least 2 years of college and it was time to move out on my own. So I did what any 90’s twenty-something ne’er-do-well would do, I spent the next 2-3 years in and out of college while working a variety of meaningless full and part time jobs until it was time to actually go. This time it was different and unlike playing the role of the mouse while the cat’s away, I joined with a group of other prospective bachelors and bachelorettes and we formed our own flophouse! At this point I was fully out of college and working at least 2 jobs while maintaining the party lifestyle. If a school offered a program for drinking and recreation I would have easily earned a master’s degree on my way to a PhD (along with half of GenX).
One thing that could be considered truly remarkable (or embarrassing) is that at this point when many friends were hooking up with partners and starting families, I had chosen to remain conspicuously single. As an added bonus I was not facing a paternity suit. Truth be told, there are many things that I can be accused of but a ladies man is never going to be one of them. Although I spent most of my 20’s-30’s fending off rumors of homosexuality I eventually grew into my singlehood and even became comfortable owning the fact that my experience with the opposite (and same) sex was destitute. My experience with irresponsibility was at an all time high however. The “bachelor’s house” was a 5-6 year experience in controlled post-adolescent mayhem. Once again my familiarity with how to handle authorities knocking on the door at midnight came in quite useful. However as the party began to wind down I began to realize that maintaining that sort of lifestyle was not realistic. It was at that time when my mother died.
Columbine and 9/11: When the Party’s Over…
The 90’s and the millennia came to an end in the worst way possible. The two events of the Colorado high school shooting in 1999 and two years later the 9/11 attacks changed American society forever. Along with the passing of my mother the writing was on the wall. Not only would life never be the same but it was time to grow up. At least kind of. The party house that I had lived in with more than a dozen odd roommates over the years eventually dissolved which led to my moving back in with my widower father to finish my schooling. It only took 20 years from enrollment to diploma, but in 2011 I completed a degree in communications and was able to close that chapter of my life.
Since this isn’t a comprehensive biography I’m sparing the details of what took place between the end of my college career and the present. If you are counting, I’ve been through about four chapters or “lives” to this point. Birth to the end of grammar school, late teens to early 20’s, the alcoholic haze of my 20’s and now the late 20’s through my early 30’s culminating in the completion of school. It should be noted that finishing a degree was a promise I made to myself upon my mother’s passing to finish what I started. I did not seriously think that it would lead to a dream job or lifelong passion (it did not). It somewhat justified all of the years I wasted when I should have just moved out and made a living on my own after I finished high school. Fortunately for my dumb-ass I had a tremendous crutch to lean on throughout life and I took full advantage of it.
You may notice that up to this point there is little if any hardship in the telling of these circumstances and experiences. Other than the passing of a parent there is no debilitating disease or condition that I have been challenged with, no traumatic incidents of mental or physical abuse or mistreatment. Not even the untimely death of a beloved family pet. At the beginning of part one I stated that a “midlife crisis” was something that might result from any or all of the above mentioned life events. It is clearly obvious that I cannot claim that a crisis is imminent nor has it been a reason for me to resent a single year of my life to date. To the contrary, I have lived a fortunate and privileged life that has yielded me every opportunity to succeed when possible. If anything seems remarkable it is that I have not become a more successful, responsible and influential person in my community. Contrary to nurturing personal development, I am someone who was positioned to overachieve and defied the odds to become a waif.
Solace in Mortality
We are all going to die. There are no such things as vampires, zombies, werewolves, or other acclaimed cryptids. Science is yet to confirm the existence of ghosts, ghouls, witches, warlocks, wormholes or dimensional doors. No one has discovered a fountain of youth, mysterious elixir, age reversal formula or cryogenic preservation solution. Mortality is the fact that we all occupy a shell that rapidly decays. The human life cycle is not long, in fact it is purposefully short to extend the survival of our species. We endure a short maturation process after which we have an optimum window to mate and reproduce for 20-30 years after which the vessels that we inhabit begin to decay as the compounds that supply our fertility and vitality cease to be produced. Thus resulting in the atrophy of our internal organs which in turn produces the phenomenon we call “aging”. Add to this biological process the multitude of bad habits and consumption of compounds that accelerate organ failure and our fates are more than sealed.
Some humans happen to be exceptionally fortunate to have the ideal mix of genes and chemistry to avoid issues such as chronic disease, premature aging, and a predisposition to substance abuse and/or depression and anxiety. Additionally, environment can be as much a factor on well being. In the chaotic ambiguity generated by various states of society and governance many human lives are lost, wasted or neglected for the sake of the few who maintain control. Humans are genocide and suicide machines. History is testament to this cycle as it is primarily composed of overlays of the rise and fall of civilizations directly attributed to war and the infliction of suffering by our peers. Even the most optimistic person must confess this as fact.
One of the keys to a “long” life is to accept these facts and move about your own life with the realization that death is as much a part of the process of life as life itself. That we will become attached to people who we may outlive is inevitable should we find ourselves in this position. More likely is that many of us will leave someone else alone or without our presence. I myself should not expect to live in excess of 70 or more years. My own recklessness and attitude towards humanity as a whole has likely determined that I will occupy a shorter thread than some. Who is to say? At the same time I have lived a life that has held much more opportunity than many others. The most important thing an individual can do when considering death, their own mortality, and when or who it has happened to is to realize that they have control over exactly one person’s life: their own. These essays have been themed concerning a midlife crisis but I refuse to believe that a crisis is necessary to understanding life. Everyone will experience loss and perhaps even lose their way, the true crisis would be to fail to interpret this as part of who it makes us in the overall scheme of life.
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