Zest for Life

The other day as my wife and I walked down the street in downtown Brooklyn, we passed a commercial building awaiting demolition, joining all but one other structure on that block slated for the wrecking ball. The whole area is enjoying a renaissance, with new buildings arising everywhere. “When we take our grandchildren here, “ my wife said, “it will be very different.” After a few seconds she added, “as if we have decades ahead of us.” She went on to say that she's not as conscious as I am that there are far fewer years ahead of us than behind.

She’s right, but on the other hand, she’s five and a half years younger than I am. When I was 74, I didn’t think so much about my life expectancy either. Yet there are people even older than I am who are so engaged, so delighted to be alive that they probably don’t think much about it either. Our friend from Los Angeles, a retired university dean, is a good example of a forward-looking octogenarian. When he visited us in Jerusalem on a Friday evening a few years ago, he had arrived from the West Coast on Thursday, the day before, on a flight that had taken him half way around the world. He spent Friday walking around Jerusalem, and when he left us about eleven at night he seemed as fresh as when he had stepped over our threshold at seven. He was eighty, only four years older than I was at the time, but he seemed twenty years younger. Such zest for life! Such eagerness to learn!

I want to look forward, as he does, not backward. There’s still time to be productive and still time to have fun. My dentist in Jerusalem told me that his grandfather, at 92, feared that he would outlive his money. My dentist’s father looked over the old man’s accounts and financial records. “Dad,” he told him, “you have enough money to allow you to keep spending, without any changes, for the next fifteen years.” The old man replied, “But then what?” That’s the way I'd like to be.