Saturday, June 9, 2012

Why I Moved to SC

A friend of mine died Thursday. He was one of those people you hope you can be more like; you admire him just for who he is, not for any block-buster event. I can't even say I knew him that well but I spent time with him on projects for church and served with him on the vestry. We always spoke. When he would ask how I was doing, I was honest and told him, good or bad, and you know there aren't that many people in the world you can do that with. Lee died of a stroke while on an anniversary trip with his wife fishing in Alaska. There was no warning.

Lee's wife wrote: "Lee had the best 7 days, he kayaked, we hiked on a glacier, he caught the first fish that morning right before it happened. He had a brain bleed and it would not have mattered where we were. I am grateful we were together having a much anticipated holiday and he was in my arms when he died."

So, seriously, what a way to go. Maybe God said, "This guy is pretty special so as a gift to him, I'm going to take him like this...Death Package #1." Yes, my mind works that way sometimes. Lee's death has shaken me and the world has lost such a good man. Maybe God said, "This guy is REALLY special and he has done so much good, he filled his dance card early. Time to come home." There I go again, writing God's script.

I have a friend who is going strong at 101, one of my neighbors is in his 90s and still mows his yard and takes a walk every morning. Yet another neighbor lost her son in his 30s and a schoolmate of mine died just after graduation. When an eldery person dies, society seems better able to accept it. We hear people console each other by saying, "They lived a good long life." Bullshit.

In my book it doesn't matter how long you lived but what you did with those years. I know that sounds like some inspirational quote that we all "like" on Facebook but it is how I am trying to live my life. I don't do well with death, not that anyone does, but I seem to be more deeply affected than most. So I don't want to waste a minute. I very clearly understand my days are numbered. It's not that I am afraid, it's that I have a lot to do to fill my dance card. So, if you are still in the numbers who do not understand why I wanted to move to SC. If you have attributed my actions to a mid-life crisis or "there must be something she's not telling us," here it is: I simply want to live my life the best way I can.

My 101-year-old friend lived a life of self-imposed imprisonment and poverty because she did not value her own needs. In contrast, my neighbor's son married and had two children while fighting brain cancer. My Dad had a dream to retire to Asheville. He died in an accident when he was 65. In contrast, my Mom postponed cancer surgery so that she could finish her quest to visit all 50 United States. Why would I choose to wait to fulfill a dream? Every time I hear someone say what they want to do when they retire, I cringe. There isn't always a "later." And that's why I am here in SC. That's why I wanted a job making a difference. That's why I over-commit. That's why I always say yes. That's why I am exhausted most of the time. It's really pretty simple.