67! 2/3 of a Century

March 30th, 2016

Mexico City, Mexico

The day I turned 25 was a cold, rainy day in Plattsburgh and I remember sitting in my easy chair, in the northeast corner of my apartment on Brinkerhoff Street watching the rain fall and feeling very depressed.  A quarter of a century!  How could that be?

Well....that was 42 years ago and I've live long enough to see a third of a century, a half of a century and today...a third of a century!

I've said this before, and I'll say it again. My father's words on his 80^th birthday, more than 23 years ago, have held me well through the years: “I've had a good life.”

“I've had a good life.” Such powerful words from him and I am grateful he said them, because it's a mantra I hold for myself as well. While I certainly have some regrets, the list of good things in my life is far longer.

Each day is a gift and each day is filled with good things. I try to give thanks daily for all God has given me.

A local Mexican friend, turning 50, recently asked me what wisdom I could convey to him. What have I learned in two-thirds of a century? Wisdom? I felt like an old man when he asked me, but he's an intuitive sort of fellow and he was very serious as he wanted to apply the applicable ones to himself.

1. Forgive. Walk away if you have to, but forgive!
2. Be grateful. “In every thing give thanks.”
3. The glass is always half full. There is always something to be grateful for.
4. Be generous with you time and with your resources.
5. Take Dolly's Levi's advice: “Money's like manure. It's no good until you spread it around.”
6. If there's something you want to do, do it! Don't wait.
7. All theologies break down to this: unless you love others as you love yourself, and unless you love God as yourself and others, religion means nothing.

I could never have imagined 67 when I graduated high school in the class of '67. Now I'm a member of the other class of '67. Nor could I have imagined it that day in 1974 when I turned 25. I have far less time than more, and I keep cramming as much into my life as possible. Who knows when the bomb will drop. As a result, I embrace each day as the gift it is.

So how did I spend #67? I woke early, treated myself to a taxi and caught a bus from Tasquena to Oaxtepec, 3,500 feet below Mexico City in the balmy state of Morelos. I spend the day at a resort, laying in the sun, reading, writing, reflecting. At lunch I stopped in my favorite restaurant there, and when they told me it was closed, I said...”but it's my birthday.” A few minutes later the waiter came back with an offer—fish or chicken. “Chicken,” I told him. Then a few more minutes later he came back, this time with a waitress and a piece of cake. On the PA system Las Mananitas was playing—the traditional Mexican birthday song. I almost cried. The kindness of strangers.

Much later, back in Mexico City, my friend Gerardo showed up with a piece of cake, a candle and a gift—a license plate from the State of Mexico.

Two days later, at the Casa where I volunteer, I was feted with a cake, speeches (I've known these people since the days of CAFEMIN), Las Mananitas again and a lovely lunch.

What a birthday! The day just overflowed. It was a perfect start to the next third century!