Heavy LoadI could be dead in 4 months.

If my genetics, or my general health, or my luck is too much like my father’s, I could be dead in four months.

That thought occured to me recently as I was carrying several things from a backyard project to be returned to their proper place in the garage.  I was carrying a power washer plus other tools in a box on my shoulder, and a shop vac and more tools in my other hand.  The visual image was simple … a guy carrying a lot of stuff.  I was pleased with the results of my waterproofing retreatment of our deck.  My thought was … I’ll bet Dad didn’t carry this much stuff at this age.

Again, I find myself wondering if age is a number, a condition, or a state of mind. My bet is … it’s all of the above .. and more.

Dad was an intense personality who sired and helped raise eight children.  I often describe Dad as the poster child for A-Type personalities.  He was intense …  focused … hard-working … and always right … at least he took that stand in any serious discussions with his children.  Right or Wrong … Dad is right.

After serving in the Navy during World War II, he completed his college education in 2 years at the University of Iowa. 

Dad became a bank examiner and the week I was to be born he “sat” for the CPA exams, passing all parts the first time.  Not many people do that. 

He joined a small CPA firm that merged with a larger firm, that grew to an even larger firm.  Dad guided one of his clients thru a public stock offering that was very successful.  Have you heard of Winnebago Industries?

Five days after his sixty-first birthday Dad died of a massive heart attack.

I hope my genes are more heavily influenced by my Mom’s family.  She is 88, acting younger than most people 10+ years her junior, and doing well.  When I was 8 my barber told me I was more like my mother’s father than my Dad’s family.  The issue then was … would I lose my hair?  He said “no” … he was right.

A day after writing the notes above … I must report that I don’t recover from physical challenges like I did years ago.

Extra sleep and some ibuprofen were in order for last evening. 

Thinking back … here I was … feeling good about completing a project, challenging myself physically, thinking about a blog entry.  I decided not to mow the lawn, but did work on trimming an arbor vitae my wife had reduced to half height.  Then, I went for the shower before planting myself at the computer.

We had pizza, and I slept thru most of the movie we rented.

Two days later … while walking the dogs … my knees said … take it easy, Bub.

The issue remains the same.  I don’t believe I am as old as the men my age in the two generations before me. Except when reminded by sore muscles or aching joints.  My self-image is somewhere in my mid-30s.

Where are you? Are you as old as the calendar suggests?

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