.
Forty-two seemed kind of old a few weeks ago.
On Monday, it didn’t.
I attended the funeral of my cousin’s wife, Heidi. She died from ALS, often referred to as Lou Gehrig’s disease, after an eight-year struggle. She leaves behind three children and her husband.
Heidi knew she’d die young. And so did her family.
At the end, she couldn’t speak. She couldn’t eat without a tube. She couldn’t hug her kids.
It’s hard to imagine them growing up without her. As long as they can remember, their mother has been dying. At ages 13, 12 and 9, they had to have outfits ready for the visitation and funeral.
Will they ever think 42 is old?
We’ve all known people who’ve died too young. That’s why it seems so odd that we’re so obsessed with youth and not wanting to grow older, especially when dying young is the only way around it.
Just the other day, I heard someone wishing he was 21. Or 25. Or even 30.
I’m guilty, too.
When I look in the mirror, I hope those especially light hairs are just super blond, not gray or silver as my hair stylist, hoping to earn a good tip, says.
I hope I can still shop in the juniors section like I did back when Michael Jackson and Wham! topped the charts.
These are things Heidi never got to worry about. She didn’t wish for rock-hard abs. She wished she could walk.
She didn’t count the days until retirement. She wished she could work again.
She quit dreaming of seeing her kids grow up and wrote letters for them to read after she died.
She will never get the senior citizen discount, go through menopause or see her face wrinkled.
When someone dies so young, it makes you mad that you don’t live with more gratitude. Most of us have so many choices in life. What would we do if those choices were replaced with being bedridden?
We put off a run because we’re tired. What if our legs no longer carried us?
We put off plans with friends because we’re too busy. What if those friends were no longer there?
We think about our dreams, wishing we were young enough to pursue them. What if the clock is ticking faster than you thought?
When you’re young, you feel like there’s so much time ahead. You can become an astronaut tomorrow. As age creeps, you realize you’re not going to take one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind.
It’s not practical to live each day like it was our last. It’s too much pressure.
But imagine all we could accomplish with a little more gratitude and a lot fewer conversations about gray hair.
I know it’s not that simple. We don’t see someone die young and forever feel blessed for each waking day. But it should remind us of how young 42 really is.
Heidi was grateful for the time she had. There wasn’t time not to be.
Käri Knutson may be reached at (507) 453-3523 or
kknutson@winonadailynews.com.
.
Advertisement
