Most of us who have reached our sixth decade are well aware of the things that prolong our lives. Vitamins, supplements, stretching, aerobic exercise, deep sleep, positive thinking, turmeric, meditation, cutting ties with toxic people, avoiding the negativity and depression of news stories, walking outdoors, good digestion and healthy bowel movements, avoiding extended periods of direct sunlight to spare our skin, a vibrant sex life, etc. —the list is virtually infinite.
Yet it is my view that high on the list of items that foster our longevity should be the contribution of unfinished business. I believe that our lives are naturally prolonged when they contain a genuine and specific purpose. The grim reaper appears ruthless when it’s our time to go, save in one regard. He seems to respect our need to complete tasks and reach milestones. He is willing to wait a little for us to get our things in order.
I was blessed to have a father who never seemed to run out of things to do. He worked until he was 77 and he retired with a desire to focus on his garden and fruit trees around his home. True to the Italian stereotype, within a few months of his retirement, my father had every square inch of land around our house planted with something. He worked in his garden at least 4-5 hours a day until he was in his nineties.
My father started cross country skiing in his late seventies and he loved to take long walks. At home he would fill his time with reading and watching soccer on TV. He loved sharing an espresso with relatives and always had time for a funny story or joke.
Strangely, he approached all tasks with a similar enthusiasm and energy. He seemed equally happy polishing his shoes, picking vegetables or dancing at the Canadian-Italian Club.
I cannot remember my father having ever complained about being bored. Ever.
Was my father’s life a perfect model for me to follow? Hardly. In time, I saw that while my father loved to “get things done,” he had difficulty relaxing and just being himself. Sometimes he resented an extended social visit with a neighbour because it made him feel unproductive in some way. There seemed to be a clock ticking in the background, whenever dad was around. He could be cold and utilitarian with his sons and wife.
No doubt, much of my father’s MO and attitude could be linked to his military training and terrible experiences during the war. Having seen the very worst of human nature and experiencing the untimely death of many comrades, he understood that time was short and that life demanded action.
Still, I cannot help but notice that my father’s approach to life was ultimately wise. He loved to set goals and strived to reach them. His life was purposeful until his very last breath.
My father lived to almost 100. His life was imperfect but it was long, full and rich.
I should be lucky if I could experience the same. And to that end, I have decided to embrace unfinished business as my life-long companion.