For Whom The Bell Tolls

 So at dinner Saturday night, with Wifey, Barry, Donna, and Scott, I shared some research I had done earlier in the day: of Americans born my birth year, 1961, what percentage of us were still alive? Of course, Barry guessed closest: he said 80%. I think the answer, per whatever site I found, was 82%.

I had done the research since, as Scott and Barry noted, "obituaries and death are Dave's hobby." Indeed they're correct.

I guess it comes from losing my Dad when I was 20, about to turn 21. He was 63, and it caused me to think, from that time, that would be my lifespan, too. Of course, he died in the pre-statin age, which is a game changer, and my Mom made it to 93, so if I get more of her genetics and avoid things like crashing cars or airplanes, maybe I still have a good run ahead of me. Or walk. I NEVER liked to run.

Today is my late father in law's birthday. He would have been 100 -- he made it to 90 -- despite amazing hardships (the Holocaust) and a VERY serious heart surgery when he was  my age. I recall it well -- he passed out, and saw his family doc, who sent him STAT to Baptist, where a heart surgeon, Cesar Brea, a very skilled Argentine, recommended bypass immediately. Eric was in training up in Boston and I asked to send the VHS films of Richard's studies to Eric FedEX. I did, and Eric called right away: "I concur -- CABG ASAP."

After the surgery, I asked Dr. Brea what Richard was looking at for future life. "We hope to give these patients 10 more good years." Dr. Brea was humble: Richard survived 27 more -- outliving both the younger Dr. Brea and the family doc who saved him by recognizing the seriousness of his heart condition.

So you never know.

I do know that some folks I know age well, and others poorly. And though lifestyle seems to help, I'm more convinced genetics rule -- and luck, I guess.

We're still dealing with daily updates from "Team Susan" about our friend, my age and a health nut, who suffered a devastating stroke. Last week, she was admitted to Brooks Rehab Hospital in Jville, one of only 4 like it in the US that specializes in "deep brain injury rehab," caused either by CVA or trauma. She faces a long slog to just return to the state where she can have REGULAR rehab back her in Miami. Each day brings baby steps -- though months after the stroke, she still out of it most of the day. I hope to hear better news each time Steve emails all of us.

Paul shares my hobby -- we talk of mortality most mornings on our walks in Aventura and Pinecrest. We wonder how much of our grandkids' lives we'll get to see. Paul's oldest is nearing 15, so I like his chances of seeing at least ONE college graduation. 

My oldest is 5, but I'm 11 years younger than Paul. I look at this gorgeous boy and his adorable brother, turning 3 this July, and wonder the same thing.

But one thing is for sure -- they grow so fast. Wifey is SO happy we live in the same city, as weeks to little ones bring major changes. We're planning a Thursday visit to fetch the pre schooler from school and spend some time.

And at 730, my friend Kenny and his brothers are hosting a Zoom Memorial for their Dad Manny, who recently died. I'll attend either from home, or from North Miami Dade.

So I keep watching those wheels go round and round, as Lennon wrote and sang, and hope I get to for a good long while.

90 like my suegro? I already outlived my Dad. 93 like my Mom? 97 like my suegra? The Big Man knows...