NOTES FROM THE 8TH DECADE #10

A DIFFERENT PLACE, A DIFFERENT TIME

September 2012

Medical office on our Maryland farm 1993

Gallery 5 in Lower Town 2003

I have had the good fortune of experiencing purpose and meaning in my life, pursuing what  I believed to be my personal destiny, medicine and art. My commitment to them has resulted in a series of changes in my lifetime, some planned, others not, but always accompanied by a sense of moving forward.  

The abrupt decision to leave Pharmacy school for a pre-med education and medical school – 19 years old

Switching residency training from General Practice to Internal Medicine which resulted in being drafted for 2 years of military service. – 26 years old

Leaving a full-time private practice for part-time Emergency Room work to pursue a career in art.– 39 years old

The end of my seventeen-year marriage – 40 years old

A second marriage – 44 years old

Moving from the city to an 18 acre farm – 46 years old

Opening a new medical practice on the farm after 12 years of art and emergency medicine – 53 years old

Moving to Paducah Kentucky and leaving medicine completely – 63 years old

In many respects I have lived with one foot in the future, and have never hesitated to “turn the corners in my life” (a phrase borrowed from one of Willie Nelson’s songs). My ability to do so depended on several factors. 

I’ve had an unfailing belief in myself as well as an incredible sense of optimism, a combination that overcame the fears and apprehensions associated with change, especially when approaching the unfamiliar.

I also possessed a powerful resource - a medical degree. I knew that no matter what the future might hold for me, there was always the option of finding full-time or part-time work in medicine. 

That was then. Now, at age 73, I face entirely different circumstances. The optimism and belief in myself are still with me, though slightly tarnished by the realities of these many years. But the biggest change has been the loss of that key resource, my medical degree. I no longer have the comfort of that fallback position; we live on a fixed income with little to no options of increasing it, other than the sale of my art, and that is tenuous at best in this current economy. I have no regrets about the choices I made. There is no doubt in my mind that they were the correct ones to make, and they have served me very well. This new place and these new circumstances... just one more corner to turn.

NOTES FROM THE 8TH DECADE #9

I DON’T FEEL SEVENTY

January 2012

I just turned 73, and the words of my dear mother come immediately to mind.  She was 70 years old when she said, “Billy, I don’t feel seventy”. At the time I mistakenly assumed she was referring to how she did or did not feel physically, however, reflecting on my own experience with this process we call ageing I realize now what she really meant.

As a young man I assumed that as I aged physically, I would also age mentally and emotionally, seeing and responding to the world with a mind-set that was unique and characteristic of the elderly, because old people were different from young people, or so I thought.  I have since learned otherwise. Yes, the years take their toll on our bodies, and the accumulation of our experiences undoubtedly affects our attitudes and belief systems, but at our core, the essence of whom and what we are remains unchanged. We see the world through the same eyes, we receive and process the input from daily living with the same hopes and fears that have defined us for all of our years. I don’t look the same as I did ten years ago; I have aches and pains that I’ve never had before, and I am keenly aware of how tenuous my future is, but I still look twice at an attractive woman, I like the same music, and I have the same fears, hopes, and personal quirks that I’ve had all of my life.

I don’t feel like I am seventy-three.