My parents both lived well into their 90s. Both died closer to 100 than to 90.
My dad didn’t retire and transfer his small restaurat supply business to a longtime employee until the end of 1998, weeks after his 85th birthday. He took overnight fishing trips on his 28′ fiberglass fishing boat that had once belonged to Duke Kahanamoku for most of another decade, enabled by a younger crew that handled the boat while my dad went along for the ride.
I used assume that the combination of their excellent genes provided a layer of protection that mere mortals didn’t have, which meant that I would be likely to follow them into a similarly long life.
Silly me.
I should have known this was a far too simplistic view of how our bodies work!
I’m still 16-months short of my 80th birthday, and six years short of my dad’s retirement age.
And now I find myself skating on the thin edge of mortality with a potentially (but not necessarily) life-threatening malady that I’m trying to beat by seeking out top-notch cutting-edge medical treatment in San Francisco. I’ve become a medical commuter.
I’m rolling with it, and right now feel better than any time in the past 6-weeks.
Back on March 16, I announced that I would be taking a “leave of absence” for medical reasons. That has proven more difficult than I thought. Although I’ve tried to press concerns about current events into my mental background, I’ve still found plenty of things to share that might otherwise appear prosaic, but now feel very special–sunrise on a rainy day, the sparkle of sunlight in a cats eye, bits of Hawaii memorabilia found in my files, ginger blossoms along our driveway, stories worth sharing from times past. Small pieces of life as it moves along.
I do appreciate all your positive vibes, and am maintaining an optomistic attitude as we move forward a step at a time.
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Remember the past, revel in the present, as for the future…
Que sera, sera
Whatever will be, will be
The future’s not ours to see
Que sera, sera
What will be, will be
Back in the early ’70s, my mom used to play this Doris Day record, all the time.
From my view, you’re living the dream. Traveling, walks on the beach, abundance of cats and dogs in your life.
You come from hearty stock. Glad you’re addressing your health issues- head on and not leaving it to chance.
Best wishes.
Thanks for this lovely piece Ian. Good luck. I am pretty sure the blogger in you will keep us posted.
Neal
You and Meda are in my daily prayer.
Peace and blessings
I can totally relate having made the same assumptions when my parents were in their early 80’s.
Then my older brother (by only 2 1/2 years) got cancer at age 57. Then I went looking for cancer (I was convinced our parents poisened us with their smoking) and in fact found kidney cancer. Thanks to my brother I’m alive having had one kidney removed in ‘08. He died the next year at age 59.
I am now 73 and a cancer survivor. My cancer was from Roundup (took several years post surgery to figure that out)
Getting the best medical care is the key and also getting second and third opinions, even if you thnk you have the best care. It is important to travel to the top cancer centers in the country. There are so many new cancer drugs now and patients can live with even Stage 4 cancers that used to be a sure death sentance.
My parents died at age 84 (dad with coronary issues and stroke) and Mom at age 92 (fully ready to die so lived a full life). I’m sure I am not guaranteed either of those ages….
I’m really glad you write because reading your words is a joy in my day.
Carol
Yes, when we realize that we all have a limited time on this physical plane, and How every moment is to be cherished do we really feel what it is to be alive. If then we start reflecting back and thinking, if we did it again, what would we do different. You’ve done so much for Hawaii people Ian and so take time to do what you want for yourself and your beautiful family. Know that you have inspired me to leave a legacy of making a difference in the lives of others who live in Hawaii. Mahalo palena ‘ole.
Sending love and support to you and Meda and the puddies!
I am so sorry to hear about this, Ian. And, although you did provide your readers here with a warning some time back, I am also surprised. You and Meda have been so extraordinarily active over the years and so vibrant whether at home or traveling. If Haunani-Kay were here and able I know she would send along here best wishes and hopes for the best–and so, of course, do I. Take care, and love to you and Meda from both of us.
David
Thinking of you, Ian
This hits home. Maybe because I have been anonymously reading and enjoying your postings for several years or maybe because, as I approach 84, I’m quietly waiting for my next “discovery”.
Identifying the challenge is most important. Then identifying some possible solutions is next. Be aggressive, never give up.
Lots of people you have never heard of are cheering you on!
Sending choke aloha and best wishes to you and Meda this morning. A hui hou Ian – you got this, and Akua’s got you!
Thanks for keeping up with your thoughtful posts. You’re important to all of us, your devoted readers and friends.
Thank you Ian for sharing your work. You’re very much appreciated and know that both you and Meda are in my thoughts and prayers while you navigate the days ahead. Sending you both much love and aloha.
“Time and chance” govern our lives, and I am glad that years ago I discovered your blog which has offered insight, joy, and a sterling example of grace. Best wishes for good outcome.
Please know that we’re all with you,Meda and your fur children as you face this challenge. We send our prayers, positive thoughts and Aloha to you.
Thank you for sharing. I enjoy reading your articles and I intend to keep reading your future articles for a long time. Sending you positive vibes and healing energy with best wishes.