I turned 65 today. Yeah, that’s a big one. It’s a number that always screamed “old” and “senior citizen” to me. But now that I’m here, it’s more of a grumble. Yeah, yeah, I know that “age is only a number,” but that number is getting alarmingly large, and now it has a Medicare card attached to it.
For most of the summer, this lonely old blog has been frequented by tumbleweeds more than stories and insights, but I feel like I oughta check in and report.
Some will assuredly say, “But you’re young at heart!” Young at heart? Hard pass. I have no desire to downgrade to an inferior model. My older heart carries a lifetime of accumulated memories—joy and pain, wisdom and foolishness, happiness and sorrow, love and not-love, experience and loss. All of it comes together to give me a wonderful gift I never had as a young buck: context.
Context turns a collection of life experiences into a coherent story, revealing patterns and giving them meaning. For example:
My life is like a room with an endless flow of people. Some come and go; others stick around. Some leave light; some leave a mark. Many people have wandered through my life who are staggeringly stupid, obtuse, and utterly lacking in self-awareness. If you are one of them, you probably don’t know it. I often wonder whether God looks down on some of His children with love, compassion, and a near-constant facepalm.
And, more often than I would like to admit, I find myself among them.
Yet I also spend my life rubbing shoulders with men and women who are vastly more intelligent than I am, more successful, more attractive, funnier, wiser, and more spiritually grounded. Some possess talents, wisdom, abilities, and accomplishments that are unimaginable to me, and I am in constant awe.
Whatever I do well, I know that someone does it better—and thank heavens for that! If my life is about growth and learning, what better gift could there be than being surrounded by people I can learn from? Learning new stuff helps give my life continued meaning.
One benefit of getting older, for me, is that memories of those who leave scars are overshadowed by those of those who leave love and light. In fact, it isn’t just about the people. More importantly, the bad memories of life begin to take a lesser role on the stage that is my memory, overshadowed by lead actors who bring me joy.
Part of that is intentional. Over the past few years, I have made a conscious effort to “cheerfully do all things that lie in our power” (D&C 127:17) as I search for purpose, peace, and contentment. The context of age helps me recognize what is important in my sphere that deserves my attention versus what is beyond my reach and doesn’t merit my stress. I’m learning to listen more and talk less, which is counter to my nature. Being discerning in what voices I allow into my life reduces noise. It helps to realize how few of the myriad voices out there are really worth listening to.
I have been blessed to be surrounded by amazing people that I get to love, and who love me, too. The context of my life’s relationships helps me know where I need to focus—specifically, my family. As we have grown from 2 to 19, my heart has grown in capacity, helping me understand a fragment of how the scale of God’s love is possible. While I strive to follow the Savior’s example and love everyone, my experience helps me understand where my priority and focus should lie.
The answer is clear: With my family. Especially my wife. I have the amazing privilege of being the person who gets to be with her as we work our way through mortality. Frankly, sometimes mortality sucks, but I get to help her weather the storms as she helps me. Taking care of her is my favorite and top priority. Being with her constantly reminds me that what I thought was maximum love when I got married was, well, it was kinda cute. Our lives have intertwined to a level of love, trust, and unity that reinforces the obvious goal and expectation of eternal togetherness. It saddens me that not everyone can experience this shining part of mortality. Some lack opportunity, some have it stripped away, others are simply unwilling or unable to do what it takes. Unconditional love, respect, obedience to God’s laws, and having the integrity to honor the covenants we made with each other and with God are all non-negotiable. It’s a tall order, but looking back on 40 years of marriage, and forward to infinite years of marriage, the payoff is real, both immediately and eternally.
This is a beautiful world. Sure, some of it is a mess, mired in bloodshed and conflict. It arises from men’s (and women’s) egos, desire for power, greed, vengeance, and ironically, religion. And it is going to get worse. Society is also a mess, and racing headlong in the wrong direction. It helps to take a deep breath and remember what President Hinckley would frequently say, “Oh, things will work out.” (link) Yes, it can sound a little trite, but it reflects a deep faith that we accept that we are in God’s hands and trust in Him.
One way that age helps in the quest for the “things will work out” attitude is that by the time you attain an age similar to President Hickley, there is less to surprise you. Things happen and you reflect back and can honestly respond in classic old man style, “Yeah, back in ’88 we went through something like this, and we got through it okay.” They mean it, and it is real, earned wisdom that only comes from experience.
I’m an optimist by nature, but a cynical one. I hope for the best, but I’m not surprised when the best doesn’t always materialize. As for the long game, I know the world will eventually fail. It is predetermined, it is prophesied. Yet that doesn’t require me to fixate on that. The world contains too much beauty and goodness to be constrained from recognizing it by putting myself in a box of fear and rage.
I have seen a lot, and the more I have seen, the more context I have to evaluate as I choose how I will process what lies before me. I have seen the ravages of men and nature in far-off lands. I’ve seen the remains of societies that have lost the plot. I’ve seen death close up, I’ve grieved with those that are left behind. It is heart-wrenching.
I’ve also seen the other side of that coin. For every part of the world that is destitute or in turmoil, there is a glorious part. I’ve seen majestic vistas that have taken my breath away. God’s works of creation can be stunning and of such a sensory impact that a mere photograph could never capture it in its fullness. Chrissie and I have been blessed to travel and see the beauty of both God and man’s creations, from Michelangelo’s David to the Northern Lights, and beyond. I never grow tired of witnessing God’s majesty through his creations.
To me, it”s a beautiful world.
“Oh, what a world, don’t wanna leave All kinds of magic all around us, it’s hard to believe" 1
To me, it’s a beautiful life.
"Open my eyes to see
It’s a beautiful life
Ain’t it bitter and sweet?
It’s a beautiful life"2
A key component of my life is the crucial role my faith plays in it. I have had a lifetime of experiences to which my faith is secured. I have witnessed miracles. New Testament-type miracles. Through years of church service, I have been privy to the miraculous and very real healing power of the Atonement as it mends broken lives and hearts, including my own. I have experienced hearing the voice of the Spirit. I have felt God’s love. I have been gifted with hard-won spiritual knowledge. I have been gifted with a faith and a hope that I have chosen to embrace.
All of these things give me a context that dwarfs what I could draw on at earlier stages of my life. It was real then, but muddier. Age can sharpen clarity, but it also brings another level of questions. My experience tells me that not all answers are forthcoming at this time. Not all prayers are answered. But those simple facts drive me forward, not away.
My mortal experience has included physical pain, emotional suffering, heart-wrenching struggles, soul-crushing tests of faith, and the loss of people dear to me. Eventually, my time will run out, too. (Hopefully later than sooner.)
I hear people say, sometimes in jest and sometimes in desperation, “Jesus, please hurry!” We all have different journeys here on Earth, but I’m in no rush for this one to end. This life is our one chance to explore this beautiful planet, to learn by experience—bumps and bruises included—to grow, to become, and to live by faith. What a gift that is. This is exactly what I signed up for, what I fought for. I’m trying not to squander it.
I have also been blessed with healing, both physical and spiritual. My life is full of love, from my eternal companion, children, bonus children, grandchildren, and friends. The beauty of God’s creations surrounds me. My faith sustains me. God has my back. I am in no hurry for this stage to end.
I love my life. My life is beautiful. Even the ugly parts.
(But man, 65 still sounds old.)
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You are and have been an inspiration to me for 25 years. I was afraid you had retired. I was so happy to see this post. And it was worth the wait. Thank you for your insight. You have a gift.
Thank you for sharing these wise thoughts.
This was well worth the wait! Thank you for this amazing post, and have a happy birthday!
Happy Birthday, Brad! And, I kept wanting to say Amen! through your whole post. I love everything that you have expressed here, and feel it myself. I am currently 75, and will be 76 in December. I love to have the context that the years have given me as well. Daily I am grateful for my physical body, in spite of the realities of aging. I am grateful for the privilege of bearing 4 beautiful daughters, even though 2 have “divorced” me – one of them over 13 years ago. I am grateful to have been able to make sacred covenants in the temple, including the sealing, in spite of a deeply painful, challenging and difficult divorce. I am grateful for the insight that years of studying the gospel, striving to live it, and being privileged to serve the Lord in so many ways through it have given me. I am grateful for amazing things my eyes have seen, amazing things my hands and body have been able to do, amazing experiences that I have had spiritually, emotionally, educationally, and physically. What a wonderful world. What a wonderful life. I am not in a rush to move on to the next phase, but as one of my daughters asked me once, why yes! – I am making my after I pass the bucket list!
Happy Birthday Brad! I’m 6 years your senior, so you’re a little brother! You’re still young my friend. You have much to do and see and share!