I’m Trying to Finish This Life Strong
It’s sobering to realize you’re more than halfway through
My life is more than half over. Statistically speaking, anyway. I’m 47, and according to the CDC, average life expectancy in 2021 was 76.1. And that’s actually down from 2020, which was even more down from 2019.
Maybe COVID has had a hand in the year-over-year decline in this decade, but the sobering reality is that my life is getting shorter by more than a year EACH year so far in the 2020s. Statistically speaking, that is.
The likelihood that I’ll live to be 94 is pretty slim.
Here’s the worse news: statistics only predict how long you will live — they don’t decide it. I had a good friend from college who died last year at the age of 46. This was no car accident or terminal illness, either. He simply didn’t wake up one morning.
Boom. Gone.
Another — I’ll call him more of an acquaintance from college, was killed earlier this year in a car accident. He was 47.
It’s safe to say both of these dudes had unfinished business — their kids are still grade- and middle school-aged. Neither saw it coming.
But let’s say, just for the sake of argument, that I do live to the full, current life expectancy of my mid-70s. Let’s say I -can- see it coming. What should these last less-than-30-years look like?
I pray to God they don’t look much like the last 47, that’s for sure. And that’s not to say that my life isn’t good. It generally is, though I am still ironing out some nasty wrinkles from decisions I made when death was just something that happens to old people.
I took out a bunch of debt when I was young and “invincible”
Student loans are the major culprit here, though credit cards and car loans compromised my long-term security as well.
The sort-of good news is, Uncle Joe is apparently going to help some of us out with the former. That is, if the other side doesn’t get their way.
Relax your sphincters. I’m not debating one side or the other of that issue here.
Student loan forgiveness or no, I spend most waking hours of every day plotting and scheming and working to get to some semblance of financial security with the few decades I (statistically) have left on this earth.
All while my time in the work force is (statistically) even less than half of that.
And I still have plenty of work to do in that regard.
I want to teach my children better practices and procedures
This isn’t going to be a hit piece on my parents, but I have to point out here that I wasn’t taught better than the things I did to fit in the previous category above.
I wasn’t allowed to get a job until after I graduated high school. The focus in our house was strictly on scholastics, to the complete exclusion of life skills.
I had no money to manage, so there were no objective lessons on that subject.
I had no curfew to teach me time management skills because I was not allowed to go anywhere besides school and church.
Come to think of it, not being allowed to go anywhere also kept me socially sheltered — a subject that could be its own whole article.
My oldest son is 14. He works. No, he doesn’t punch a time card at a factory or bus tables at a restaurant. He mows yards, though. Tons of them. This kid earned more than $600 over the summer.
“I’m getting a PS5 with my money, Dad!” he told me one afternoon.
Thank God he’s 14 and not 16 yet. He actually listened to me when I responded.
“Well, let’s think about that for a minute, Kid,” I said. “You have a PS4. And I get that the graphics are probably better and the processor is a little faster, but what does having the new machine let you -do- that you can’t already?”
To his credit, he acknowledged that it didn’t functionally add anything to his life that he didn’t already have.
He (very begrudgingly) recognized that better isn’t always more.
He has spent a little of that money on some things, which I’m ok with. Why earn money that you’ll never use, right? But the bulk of it is still intact and aimed at a much larger, more long term goal: a car when he turns 16.
He’s in much better shape now than I was at 26. My youngest is only seven, and he will receive the same guidance as he matures.
I’m not hunting things anymore, but rather legacy
I’ve lived the life of needing the next best thing. You should’ve seen the saliva drooling down my chin when the iPad first became a thing. The fire dancing in my eyes each year when the new iPhone released to market.
That wasn’t all that long ago, either. Hell, the iPad is only 12 years old. So…my mid-30s.
I’m proud to say now that my iPad is year-before-last’s model. My iPhone is three years old. My car is ELEVEN years old.
I’ve finally matured to the point that I claim the fact that a car is a car so long as it drives. A phone is a phone until your brand of choice obsoletes it with software — which usually takes somewhere around four to five years.
One more time: better is not always more.
What matters most to me in life now is not stuff, but people.
Teenagers gonna teenage, and I get that. My job now is to set them up with better thought processes now by putting up the rails and keeping them headed down the road in the right direction.
They may deviate a little to the left or right, but as long as I’m there to guide, they’ll stay generally on the right course.
Finishing strong means strengthening those I leave behind
I plan to make each of my remaining years count more than the one before it.
And that is the best lesson I can teach my kids now.
“My children, don’t wait until your mid-40s to decide to live well. Do that now and make an even bigger difference in those around you.”
