Today marks the twenty year anniversary of the death of my paternal grandfather.
The fact that it has been two decades literally blows me away. I had just turned seven when he died, and the time leading up to and immediately after his death are (understandably) formative memories of my childhood. I was in second grade at the time. I have very few memories from before my grandpa died; most my memorable life has happened since. Furthermore, this means my grandma has been a widow for twenty years. I can barely imagine being married for twenty years (my husband and I are just this year going to hit our five-year anniversary), and my grandma has already lived twenty years since her husband died, twenty years since the end of her marriage. It's just really hard for me to fathom.
My grandpa technically died of cancer (he had prostate cancer that spread to his kidneys), but as a kid I thought of it/it was described to me as "old age." He fought prostate cancer years before I was born and went into remission for something like fifteen years. When the second round of cancer came around, he was older. It got to different organs. Yeah, it was cancer - but it was the sum of all of the places the cancer inhabited. Bit by bit he got worse. His organs failed. It was "old age" because he died from an ailment associated with or made worse by aging. Plus, I thought of him as old. He was in his 70s. He was bald and gray. I was seven.
But my grandma has lived twenty years since her husband died of "old age." This is what really gets me. I guess it's the span of "old age" - that someone can be thought of as old at 70 and at 90, that I can literally live nearly my entire memorable life to date in the span of just part of someone's "old age." Life is long. The stages growing up are so short when you're little: baby, toddler, kid, preteen, teenager, young adult... And then you get to: Middle Age. Old Age. Those are long ass stages! You can get so much done in those stages! You have decades to work with. It's just really incredible, and it takes a major thought adjustment, I think, to realize: Hey, I'm 27 now. I'm legitimately an adult, I am entering the LONG ASS LIFE STAGES (LALS for short). Things aren't going to change so much anymore. I probably have more in common with 30-somethings and 40-somethings than I do with teenagers. My position in life is basically this for the next few decades, with only minor adjustments. I have TIME.
It's a relief, actually. Anything that I want to accomplish "as an adult" I have decades to work toward (baring unfortunate disaster). So how do I make the most of this time? What am I going to do with all of this?
My other grandmother is also still alive. My paternal grandmother is turning 89 this year and my maternal grandmother is turning 90. Her husband died sixteen years ago; at that time, my maternal grandmother decided to move into an independent living facility that was quite expensive. She in all honesty did not think she would be there long, so she didn't worry too much about the expense. Sixteen years later, she's still there and still (more or less) of the same level of health she was then. Sixteen years!
I don't want to presume that she feels like she's wasted those sixteen years - or even that I would feel like I'd wasted those years if I were her age. But where I am right now, at age 27, I can't imagine staying in one place for sixteen years and doing literally nothing out of the ordinary or accomplishing anything for sixteen years. Sixteen years is a LONG time. Living for sixteen years with the only goal being "stay alive"? Is that really living?
I want to make the most of my LALS. I don't want to look back on my life and be like, where did those sixteen years go? I did literally nothing notable.
I also don't want to have grown children and look back and say, the only thing I did in the last two decades is watch my children grow. Even though that is obviously notable, to raise kids and be a parent - children are going to grow whether you grow them or not. And to have done nothing else on the side, nothing else for myself - a job, a career, volunteering, a project, a goal, whatever - that would feel like such a waste. I don't want to say: "In the two decades of my child's life, wherein my child did everything and went through all those early life stages and grew so much - I did nothing but watch them. In two decades, I didn't grow myself at all."
My grandmothers living so long after their husbands passed away gives me great inspiration. Even in old age, we can have so much time left. We don't even know. We might think that's it, we're on the final lap now - and then that final lap lasts decades. And we're only living longer and longer as a species. It's incredible. It's daunting. What am I going to do with this much time? What am I going to do with myself? But it's also a relief. Life doesn't have to be rushed anymore, now that I'm out of those kid-stages. I have plenty of time to work with.
The fact that it has been two decades literally blows me away. I had just turned seven when he died, and the time leading up to and immediately after his death are (understandably) formative memories of my childhood. I was in second grade at the time. I have very few memories from before my grandpa died; most my memorable life has happened since. Furthermore, this means my grandma has been a widow for twenty years. I can barely imagine being married for twenty years (my husband and I are just this year going to hit our five-year anniversary), and my grandma has already lived twenty years since her husband died, twenty years since the end of her marriage. It's just really hard for me to fathom.
My grandpa technically died of cancer (he had prostate cancer that spread to his kidneys), but as a kid I thought of it/it was described to me as "old age." He fought prostate cancer years before I was born and went into remission for something like fifteen years. When the second round of cancer came around, he was older. It got to different organs. Yeah, it was cancer - but it was the sum of all of the places the cancer inhabited. Bit by bit he got worse. His organs failed. It was "old age" because he died from an ailment associated with or made worse by aging. Plus, I thought of him as old. He was in his 70s. He was bald and gray. I was seven.
But my grandma has lived twenty years since her husband died of "old age." This is what really gets me. I guess it's the span of "old age" - that someone can be thought of as old at 70 and at 90, that I can literally live nearly my entire memorable life to date in the span of just part of someone's "old age." Life is long. The stages growing up are so short when you're little: baby, toddler, kid, preteen, teenager, young adult... And then you get to: Middle Age. Old Age. Those are long ass stages! You can get so much done in those stages! You have decades to work with. It's just really incredible, and it takes a major thought adjustment, I think, to realize: Hey, I'm 27 now. I'm legitimately an adult, I am entering the LONG ASS LIFE STAGES (LALS for short). Things aren't going to change so much anymore. I probably have more in common with 30-somethings and 40-somethings than I do with teenagers. My position in life is basically this for the next few decades, with only minor adjustments. I have TIME.
It's a relief, actually. Anything that I want to accomplish "as an adult" I have decades to work toward (baring unfortunate disaster). So how do I make the most of this time? What am I going to do with all of this?
My other grandmother is also still alive. My paternal grandmother is turning 89 this year and my maternal grandmother is turning 90. Her husband died sixteen years ago; at that time, my maternal grandmother decided to move into an independent living facility that was quite expensive. She in all honesty did not think she would be there long, so she didn't worry too much about the expense. Sixteen years later, she's still there and still (more or less) of the same level of health she was then. Sixteen years!
I don't want to presume that she feels like she's wasted those sixteen years - or even that I would feel like I'd wasted those years if I were her age. But where I am right now, at age 27, I can't imagine staying in one place for sixteen years and doing literally nothing out of the ordinary or accomplishing anything for sixteen years. Sixteen years is a LONG time. Living for sixteen years with the only goal being "stay alive"? Is that really living?
I want to make the most of my LALS. I don't want to look back on my life and be like, where did those sixteen years go? I did literally nothing notable.
I also don't want to have grown children and look back and say, the only thing I did in the last two decades is watch my children grow. Even though that is obviously notable, to raise kids and be a parent - children are going to grow whether you grow them or not. And to have done nothing else on the side, nothing else for myself - a job, a career, volunteering, a project, a goal, whatever - that would feel like such a waste. I don't want to say: "In the two decades of my child's life, wherein my child did everything and went through all those early life stages and grew so much - I did nothing but watch them. In two decades, I didn't grow myself at all."
My grandmothers living so long after their husbands passed away gives me great inspiration. Even in old age, we can have so much time left. We don't even know. We might think that's it, we're on the final lap now - and then that final lap lasts decades. And we're only living longer and longer as a species. It's incredible. It's daunting. What am I going to do with this much time? What am I going to do with myself? But it's also a relief. Life doesn't have to be rushed anymore, now that I'm out of those kid-stages. I have plenty of time to work with.
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