Several years ago, my grandad turned 100 years old. At my grandad’s birthday celebration were my grandad (100), his brother Stu (98) and his brother Grahame (96). Last weekend my great-uncle Grahame turned 100. My grandad lived in his home up to his passing. My uncle Grahame has lived in his childhood home his whole life. Both have/had good health given their age. Grandad died before his 101st birthday. Stu almost made it.
I don’t personally know many people who live to be 100. It’s still a rare event. I remember thinking at grandad’s birthday how much he witnessed in his lifetime.
Grandad was born in 1915 in Treharris, Wales. I’m a history buff and from that I think to the early years of WWI, a watershed time that completely changed the western world. Fortunately, especially in hindsight, my grandad was too young to fight in WWI and too old for WWII.
I wish that I knew more about my grandad. At some point early in his life, he immigrated to Canada. He settled in Oshawa, Ontario, worked at the GM plant there his whole life. He loved music, and played the piano in a big band. He retired from GM at a normal retirement age. He golfed (he’s the only one I know who has ever had a hole-in-one), and enjoyed antiques.
My uncle Grahame still lives in the home in Oshawa he and his brothers grew up in. That’s a long time for a house to keep it’s original owner family! Uncle Grahame never married. He fought in WWII as part of the Devil’s Brigade, one of the first joint Canada-US military ventures. I remember when I was in high school working at the local Canadian Tire, I helped a customer on the phone with something. At the end of a protracted call, he asked my name. When I told him, he said “I used to jump out of perfectly good airplanes with a Grahame Clapp”. That was the first I heard of uncle Grahame’s military adventures. I wish I could have travelled back home to be there for his party.
I expect that more people will live to be 100 by the time I get there. Maybe 125 will be the new 100! One hundred years is a lot of life, and a lot of change. I can’t imagine what life will be like in ten years, let alone 55 years from now. Old programs, articles and ads from the 1950’s that describe the future are hilarious. I wonder how future people will laugh at our predictions when they look back.
Sometimes we hear that life is short. Sometimes that life is long. In many ways it’s both. I grew up just a few blocks from my grandad, but didn’t get to know him in a way that now I wish I had. In that sense, life is short. Make the most of opportunities as they arise. Don’t assume you’ll get a second or third chance.
On the other hand, life is long. One hundred years is a long time to live. I bet as grandad or uncle Grahame look back on their lives, the things they worried about, or though were critical don’t seem quite as important. The hills are not so high, nor the valleys so deep. Life is long. We need perspective.
Major life events, ours and those we know and love, give us an opportunity to pause and take stock. This is good. For me, I’ll balance short and long. I’ll try to make the most of every day, every opportunity and every relationship that I have. I don’t want to take things for granted. At the same time, I’ll remember that most single successes and failures, desires and fears, when measured over time, are not as high or low as I feel they are in the moment.
