I was thinking about the title for this post and finally settled on this one for no other reason other than it's the truth. During some of my darkest times going back to adolescence I would always ask myself why are we even born if we eventually die? I have been so fortunate as my first family death came in 1987 while I was a sophomore in college. However in September of 1985 my dad had a massive heart attack while at the Chicago Bears game with my brother Jimmy. He was rushed to the hospital and all of the doctors that saved his life that day were at the game too, talk about karma! His heart stopped while on the table (flat lined) and one of the doctors grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him up while saying "you're scaring the shit out of me", my dad responded back with the same exact comment and his heart miraculously started beating again. He was 47, smoked (3) packs of Lucky Strikes a day and would wake up in the middle of the night to make a salami omelet so he could keep our dog company! Well those days came to a screeching halt.
Ten years later in 1995 he needed to undergo open heart surgery for a quadruple bypass. The doctors didn't know if he would even survive having his chest opened up let alone being able to get in and do the bypass. My dad came through the surgery and was again on the road to recovery. This would become a familiar theme as the years passed on.....Getting a defibrillator several years later, knee replacement surgery which had complications but again he prevailed and then recently another massive heart attack in the grocery store while on vacation and a second open heart surgery in 2012.
I remember my dad saying many years ago that he just wanted to live long enough to see my brothers and I finish college and anything after that would just be "gravy". He certainly has had a lot of gravy, over 25 years of it! He's seen his children get married, have children, and has been to (3) of his grandchildren's Bar/Bat Mitzvah, pretty incredible. He's even had time to make sure they root for the Cubs not the Sox:)
How does this happen to someone who has a damaged heart but not a damaged spirit? Is it magic, luck or karma? I happen to think it's all of that and much more, it's not his time yet.
When will it be his time? Days, Weeks, Months? Who knows but we have come to understand and accept the eventuality that we all die someday. We instead focus on being grateful for every day, living in the moment and letting people know how much we love them.
The rest is out of our control.
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