There are many good reasons to read the obituaries, not the least of which is some personal relationship to the recently deceased. But starting in my early 50’s, I found myself reading them every day, every last one of them in the local paper.
At first I only glanced at the names and ages and skimmed the details, then began to measure my (hmm, I'm not as young as I used to be) age against those who had recently gone to their ultimate reward. Of course, as time passed, the average age of those dying started to creep down toward my own and I began to run a rough mental calculus on the relative age of the entire body of departed souls.
Soon however, I developed an intense interest in the people themselves and the lives they had lived, particularly those of my parent's generation who went through so much and said so little about it. On many occasions I am now simply amazed at where these people started, what they accomplished and how they lived their lives. Sometimes it's possible to read between the lines and tease out a wonderful, telling aspect of a person’s life. Many other times I am left wanting to know more, much more.
Now at last, having made a comfortable habit of reading the obits, I take immense pleasure in discovering a thoughtful, witty, heartfelt paean to someone's close relative. Such finds don't have to be profoundly well written or clever. They just have to capture the spirit of the person . . . which is not an easy task. This one does it.
John Robert Held, 74
John Robert Held, a longtime resident of Bolton, died in Boston on March 19, 2013. He was a vibrant 74 years old. Rob was never happier then (sic) when he could get his hands dirty clearing trails or pulling invasive weeds, and he was always looking for an excuse to run around the woods with his chainsaw. Rob often said that every day after 70 is a gift and he lived life to the fullest to the very end. He loved to ski, hike, climb and putter in his garden, and he took every chance to raise a glass with family and friends. When he died he was simultaneously planning a ski trip to Jackson Hole, a full knee replacement, and a family trip to Switzerland. He died surrounded by his family and dear friends, by tears and raucous laughter. Goodnight sweet prince. You were our best friend.
Worcester Telegram - Sunday, March 24, 2013, Page B6
" . . . every day after 70 is a gift." A person could live a long and happy life simply by keeping that phrase front and center in their mind, no matter what their age.
