Back in the 1980s and 90s, I spent a lot of my time raking up exotic shit. This is no euphemism. Elephants, orang utans, lions and tigers and bears … oh my! All regularly deposit shit by the shovel-full, and much of my job description involved seeing to it that wonderful creatures didn’t have to step in any poop piles.
The Sacramento Zoo was where I passed the hours, days, weeks and months back then, and some of my happiest moments involved the animals and the people I tagged along with and cleaned up after.
Skewed toward the old side of the age range represented by my coworkers, I was well pleased when our ranks were joined by Robbie … near my own age, we had much in common and immediately and permanently became best friends.
We’d both led life on the wild side, and had the physical side effects to prove it. I was already well into the coronary artery disease that plagues many in my family, and I smoked. Robbie already had AIDS.
Almost 20 years later, Robbie and I are still around. I’m here and he’s in Atlanta, and we’re still best friends. Sadly and unexpectedly, a few of the others aren’t.
Fit, athletic, health conscious Lee died of breast cancer a number of years ago. Kevin, at least 10 years younger than me and Robbie, was dropped by a heart attack. And we just had news yesterday that another one of our group has some horrible cancers growing in horrible places. All younger non-smoking folk with no touch of HIV. (Another friend is also facing the cancer fight now … also a much younger, non-smoking careful eater.)
It’s a funny old thing, this life and death and health and illness stuff. Twenty years ago, all predictions would have had Robbie gone within a couple of years with me not too far behind, and Lee and Kevin shoveling shit till ripe old ages.
Earlier this year, my son died at the age of 38. My mother turns 78 today in hospital.
There is no moral to this post. I’m certainly not suggesting that people take up smoking and have unprotected sex, as tempting fate is exactly that. But the fates often have their own agenda, of which we haven’t a clue.
Living life while we have it seems to be the only thing that makes much sense, even if that means spending a lot of time up to our eyeballs in shit, exotic or otherwise.
Sorry for your loss Sandra. I agree that life should be lived instead of worrying about what not to do, eat, say, watch…
Who knows what the next moment will bring?
Exactly …
As we have seen so graphically in the past few days of coverage from Haiti, one moment to the next can see everything change, so we might as well enjoy the moment we’re in.
Outstanding analysis, Sandra. There are so many “whys” in my world, when I hear folks speak as though they have answers, I know immediately that they do not know enough to know what they do not know.
Thanks, Hope. My fav (not) take spouted these days is from people who insist that all is just a matter of “attitude” … like putting on a happy face assures that bad things don’t happen. Yeah … right.
this lesson I learned at an early age. treasure each moment, but don’t be a butthead about it!
There’s a bumper sticker if I ever heard one …
Well, I’d say you’ve been doing something right to be living out your days in Seychelles and doing what you love. The truth of the matter is that life is hard, no matter where or how you live it, so you might as well live and do what makes you the most happy.
It isn’t how long you live life, its how much you live in the life you’ve got.
I know seniors who have been dead most of their lives. I’m in my 40s lived several lifetimes already. Look out because there will be quite a few more before they take me down!
Yep, Lis …
I heard something recently from a wise cancer researcher and two time brain cancer survivor before the age of 40 – research has shown that it is not stress etc. that gives impetus to those cancer cells always present in our bodies to grow into ugly spreading messengers of death, but helplessness.
Makes a lot of sense to me.
That makes SO much sense, Lisa.
Sandra,
You’re absolutely right … tic toc … life can change in the blink of an eye! Just arrived home from my sister’s funeral (she was only 59). Very hard. We grew up south of the Sacramento area. Our mother will soon be 87. Never thought I would be thankful for dementia …
My heart goes out to you hearing about the loss of your son. Our son is now 36, living in Australia. We’ve seen him 3 times in the last 8 years. That’s gonna have to change!
We’re actually looking at the Seychelles for retirement. Hopefully close enough to our son that he’ll be motivated to visit paradise a couple of times a year and we can do the same. We’re currently preparing our home to either rent it or sell it in the next few months.
From one California girl to another, I’d love to hear your thoughts about retirement in the Seychelles. We’re determined to live near beautiful water and make the most of the time we have!
Thanks and all the best!
Jilleen
rjb.ecbeach@yahoo.com
Sounds like we’ve been living parallel lives, Jilleen …