Recently, when I told one of my Kenyan colleagues that my sister Julie died at age 57, she replied, "Well, at least she had a long life." I remember being taken aback, almost offended even. As far as I was concerned, Julie was just getting started. She needed to be here 20 years from now, when maybe I had a kid she could help spoil, or when we could at least be two old women in floral sneakers sitting on the upper deck of a cruise ship somewhere.
I thought about that colleague's comment last night. Just before heading to bed, I heard a CNN International anchor ask a guest if people were so affected by Farrah Fawcett's passing because she had died so young. At age 62.
It struck me that 30 years ago in the US, 62 was not considered young. (That still holds true in Kenya. A woman is definitely considered an "old mama" by the time she reaches her late 40's, even.) But in many countries today, if you're blessed with good genes, good health, a good attitude and lots of energy, 62 is considered way too early to check out.
And then I woke up this morning to the news that Michael Jackson had died of cardiac arrest. At age 50.
Now, I know babies die inexplicably, and children die of horrid diseases, and a fatal accident can happen at any age to anybody. But dying at age 50 seems unutterably cruel. If you're lucky, you've just got this life thing figured out at 50. You've made plenty of mistakes, suffered enough losses to know how to get through the inevitable myriad more to come with some measure of grace and strength. If you have children, you start considering what you need to do to make sure that you're still here when they have children. If you have a skill you've worked hard to develop, you can really start to reap the long haul benefits.
Basically, you finally start feeling comfortable in your own skin.
Speaking of skin, the whole world knows Michael Jackson's brilliance was overshadowed only by his bizarreness. In fact, through the years I've wondered if he would even live to be 50 at all. That's why in one sense, I take small comfort in my belief that with all the stress, anxiety and hard work Michael Jackson endured--and all the drama and problems he may have created for himself and others--he is in a better place.
But both Farrah's and Michael's passing have sent me yet another profound message. Come to think of it, it's actually one of the items on 90-year-old Regina Brett's list.
34. Don't audit life. Show up and make the most of it now.
And I might as well throw this one in, too....
35. Growing old beats the alternative -- dying young.
Remember what I wrote the other day? The items on that list are NOT NEGOTIABLE. One year ago today, my plane touched down in Nairobi. In the contract I renewed, I'm scheduled to leave Kenya one year from today. In a lot of ways, it feels like I'll never get things fully figured out over here, but there's one thing I know for sure. I must make a much more concerted effort to live every day like my life depended on it.
RIP, FARRAH AND MICHAEL. May flights of angels sing and moonwalk thee to thy rest.
It struck me that 30 years ago in the US, 62 was not considered young. (That still holds true in Kenya. A woman is definitely considered an "old mama" by the time she reaches her late 40's, even.) But in many countries today, if you're blessed with good genes, good health, a good attitude and lots of energy, 62 is considered way too early to check out.
And then I woke up this morning to the news that Michael Jackson had died of cardiac arrest. At age 50.
Now, I know babies die inexplicably, and children die of horrid diseases, and a fatal accident can happen at any age to anybody. But dying at age 50 seems unutterably cruel. If you're lucky, you've just got this life thing figured out at 50. You've made plenty of mistakes, suffered enough losses to know how to get through the inevitable myriad more to come with some measure of grace and strength. If you have children, you start considering what you need to do to make sure that you're still here when they have children. If you have a skill you've worked hard to develop, you can really start to reap the long haul benefits.
Basically, you finally start feeling comfortable in your own skin.
Speaking of skin, the whole world knows Michael Jackson's brilliance was overshadowed only by his bizarreness. In fact, through the years I've wondered if he would even live to be 50 at all. That's why in one sense, I take small comfort in my belief that with all the stress, anxiety and hard work Michael Jackson endured--and all the drama and problems he may have created for himself and others--he is in a better place.
But both Farrah's and Michael's passing have sent me yet another profound message. Come to think of it, it's actually one of the items on 90-year-old Regina Brett's list.
34. Don't audit life. Show up and make the most of it now.
And I might as well throw this one in, too....
35. Growing old beats the alternative -- dying young.
Remember what I wrote the other day? The items on that list are NOT NEGOTIABLE. One year ago today, my plane touched down in Nairobi. In the contract I renewed, I'm scheduled to leave Kenya one year from today. In a lot of ways, it feels like I'll never get things fully figured out over here, but there's one thing I know for sure. I must make a much more concerted effort to live every day like my life depended on it.
RIP, FARRAH AND MICHAEL. May flights of angels sing and moonwalk thee to thy rest.
