Had a telephone conversation with my brother yesterday. I like chatting with him mainly because I like him and feel blessed in having a fraternal link that means a lot to us both.
Whereas topics were once about our houses, cars, which ‘hotties’ were of interest, vacations, respective families and so forth, I realized after a time and certainly retrospectively, we’d had an ‘old guy’ conversation.
Instead of chatting about agreeable, even inspiring or arousing stuff our subject areas went to health. He and I are both suffering from ‘conditions’ that sap our quality of life to a degree and discussed how we are dealing with those things. I thought for a moment I was listening to my grandparents. Neither are life-threatening as far as we know – actually, ‘life’ is life threatening – but they are vexing.
And then we got into longevity. Once I passed the age of 50 I started perusing the obituary columns in both the local papers and the big city ones. I revelled in subjects that had lived good long lives and hated reading about ones that had died before my age. Somehow I took solace in the person having been a suicide because he/she made that choice; it wasn’t God who did.
I also hated reading about people who I knew or had gone to school with. And then locally I found people I just might know quite well, and that could be devastating.
Then our conversation segued into our own longevity. As it stands I have already outlived my mother, but she didn’t take very good care of herself, poor soul.
So we discussed aunts and uncles who had lived to a very ripe age. I have one aunt who turned 100 a short time ago, and another who made it well into her 90s. Whew. Those are blessings. I had two great aunts who made it past their centennials. It’s all about genes, we are told.
So that seems to be where my bro and I are these days, Kind of dreary..