As some of you know, my previous opus (it will pop up on your screen if you click here) examines the travel bug that bit me when I was a young adult, and highlights a few of the trips and destinations I’ve been most taken with over the course of my life. At the tippy top of the most–taken–with list is a three-week trek, in November 1982, through the Himalaya Mountains in Nepal. I’d never done anything as demanding or adventurous as that endeavor turned out to be. And I haven’t come close to equaling it. I think about the trek fairly often. It made a huge impression on me, bringing me nearly face-to-face with some of the world’s tallest peaks, including numero uno itself, Mount Everest.
I cherish my Himalayan memories. And I’ll never add to them, because it would be physically impossible for me to ascend high into the Himalayas at this point in my life. My legs would give out after two or three days on the trail, for sure. Or, far worse, my ticker might stop ticking before my legs cried uncle. Hell, the trek took place 43 and a half years ago. I was 35 at the time, fully feeling my oats. I’m 78 now. And though I’m extremely fortunate to be in decent shape, a whole lot of the oats I feel nowadays are literally oats. In the form of oatmeal, which I spoon into my mouth for breakfast about once a week. In other words, decent shape is relative, and I definitely ain’t what I used to be. Nobody in my age bracket is.
Seventy-eight? Are you shitting me? How is this possible? How did time flow by so quickly? Man, by just about anyone’s definition, I’m real old. That’s why, completely unsurprisingly, I now and then ponder my eventual demise. What will get me in the end? The possibilities are more than many. As with everything, time will tell.
The crazy thing about it, though, is that I can’t fully wrap my head around the fact that an expiration date is stamped in invisible ink somewhere on my body. (By the way, my guess is that it’s on my ass. On both cheeks, probably.) I mean, I still think of myself as being kind of immortal, just as I did decades ago. Basically, I want to keep going on and on and on, and for everyone of like mind on the subject to keep going on and on and on too. And, let me assure you, serious bodily ailments would be no more for those of us choosing non-ending sojourns on Planet Earth. Yeah, you better believe that a major restructuring of earthly realities would be instituted pronto if I were in charge. Vote for me! Damn straight I’d set matters straight!
In autumn 2025, my wife Sandy and I gathered with family in Hawaii to attend the bar mitzvah of one of our three great-nephews, as Hawaii is where the bar mitvah boy resides. We stayed with a bunch of other family members in a rented house for a week. On the grounds was a huge swimming pool. The pool was a magnet for the great-nephews, who at the time ranged in age from six to thirteen, and for most of the adults too.
One afternoon, Sandy and I were standing in the house with our sister-in-law Sara, who was regarding, through windows, the three youngsters splashing away in the pool. Sara turned to me and Sandy and said something to us that has stuck in my mind: “Our lives are ending and theirs are beginning.” Wistfulness and wonder were in her voice.
Well, Sara meant ending in a broader sense, not in the imminent sense. Nevertheless, she was right. She, Sandy and I are in our 70s. Even if we each hang in there for another 20 or more years, that won’t be all that much compared to the number of years we’ve already said goodbye to. On the other hand, the future is wide open for my great-nephews, and I hope it treats them well.
So, that’s life. We come and we go. And, hopefully, we live productively and lovingly during our stays. My wishful thinking described above isn’t about to change the way things roll here on our orb. Though I’d be delighted if it did.
Yeah, Another Blogger 
It’s kind of startling, looking back at milestones and saying “how can that be so long ago? Seems like it was just a little while back.” While I’m not quite as far along the timeline as you, long lives do not run in my family tree, and the old bod is reminding me it ain’t a teenager anymore. I guess the best I can say looking forward or back; no major regrets.
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Having no major regrets is a big plus in life, I think. We’re more at ease with ourselves and others that way.
Thanks a lot for adding your thoughts. Appreciated.
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Lovely 🌹 Thanks for sharing.
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Thanks. Take care.
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Yeah, I understood what the expression “time flies,” meant when I was younger, but only in a distant, intellectual way. Now I’m experiencing it firsthand as days and weeks literally fly by. Trying to stop and smell the roses and all that. While I still can! 🙂
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Hi. It’s incredible to me that two months of 2026 already have gone by. Zoom!
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Even in my 20s, in the best shape of my life, I couldn’t have trekked the Himalaya Mountains. Well done!
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I’m glad I was there. I look back fondly upon that trip.
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I know what you mean about ageing, Neil. I look at my grandchildren and see the wistfulness of their starting their young adult life (this year will be: 18, 19, 23) and remember when I was at those ages. It just doesn’t seem that long ago. And then when your kids start talking about the near future of maybe you moving in with them–what the hell! Am I becoming my mother?
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We aren’t getting any younger!
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I’ve been pondering this ever since you posted it, and just couldn’t come up with a response that seemed to convey my real feelings, although the comment of your sister-in-law certainly resonated. Sometime last night it came to me: the lyrics of this Blood, Sweat, & Tears song say it perfectly for me. I bought the album it was on when it came out (late 60s?), but never paid much attention to that particular song. Today, I listen, and grin. Life gave me the understanding I didn’t have all those years ago.
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Hi Linda. An amazing recording. I hadn’t heard it or thought about it in many years.
When the time comes, going out feeling fulfilled and with a smile on one’s face seems like the right way.
I googled the song to see who wrote it. Laura Nyro did, which I had forgotten. And she was young, maybe about 19, when she composed it. She was highly talented, for sure.
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Most old stories weren’t written for the young and restless—they were meant for folks who’d lived long enough to feel time tug at their sleeves. Across cultures, you find these gentle reminders that mortality isn’t a failure of the system. It’s part of the job description. Aging, in these tales, isn’t about running out of usefulness—it’s about being trusted with work that can only be done while you’re still walking the earth. The clock doesn’t mean hurry up, so much as stay present.
The warrior Arjuna visits the gods and tastes their immortal realm, but he can’t stay. He’s sent back down into mortal life because the world still needs his courage and judgment in a very human war. Immortality’s nice, the story says—but duty calls louder.
Utnapishtim alone is granted immortality after the great flood, but when Gilgamesh comes seeking the same gift, he’s turned back. The message is clear and kindly firm: humans must remain mortal so they’ll build, rule, and care for the world while they can. Eternal life would only get in the way of the work.
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Hey there, Chuckster, how goes it? You have an expansive way of looking at things, no doubt about it.
I like what you say about mortality being part of the job description. While we’re here, we should strive to do a good job!
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Well said, Neil. A life well-lived with love and compassion is the best we can all do, I think. 😘
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Hi Pam. Onward!
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I can certainly relate to your post. I am 78 and my wife is 79. We have always been relatively healthy and active, but we can no longer ignore avoid end game discussions about the invisible expiration dates. We have had surprises in life but mostly we make plans and follow them with a relatively high degree of certainty, e.g., finishing school, getting jobs, having kids, traveling, etc. But we have no idea when or how we will die, so planning for the only event that is 100% certain is the most difficult exercise.
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You and I are the same age. We should start a club!
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That’s immensely sad. Not in a horrible way. But I so thoroughly enjoy living, that I would never want it to be over. But if we could be immortal, we might have Al Roker on TV forever. Think about that!
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Al would be dismayed if he knew what you said!
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I hope it treats them well too, 🤞
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Hi, and thanks very much.
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I too hope the future treats the next generations well – fabulous post – thank you! Linda 🙂
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Hi Linda. Many thanks for adding your thoughts. I appreciate it. Take care.
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My pleasure 🌟
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Keep splashing in whatever pool is available…
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Thumbs up to that!
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LOL. The idea of the expiration date being stamped on your cheeks made me laugh. Great post, Neil. 🙂
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Hi, and thank you very much. I appreciate your stopping by. Enjoy the day!
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‘Hopefully, lovingly and productively’—such a terrific philosophy!!
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Morning, Michele. I think that quite a few people are oriented that way. The world is such a mess, though.
Thank for visiting. Here’s to a real good weekend!
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There aren’t enough hours in the week to get things done, or so it seems! At 66 I can’t believe how fast the weeks go by and nothing on my list got done! Lol
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Time has a mind of its own —- it refuses to slow down.
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Wise words, Neil. To quote Leonard Cohen, I’m 63, just a kid with a crazy dream. Alison and I were walking in Edinburgh’s Botanic Gardens today, and came across a bench dedicated to someone who, the inscription said, had ‘forged her own pathway in life.’ I guess that’s all any of us can hope for. Until you get hooked offstage by the Grim Reaper, of course!
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I wish somebody would hook the Grim Reaper offstage!
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You and me both, Neil, you and me both.
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Ah, the tricky, shifty-slidey ground of mortality and the eternal hope for immortality. That’s why those long ago Egyptians had all their earthly stuff buried with them–it gave them the illusion they were simply going to continue life somewhere else. It’s the reason why Ed and I half-jokingly/half-seriously pledge to each other that we’re going to make it to at least 132/140 (respectively) and then we’ll “go out” together. Not suicide, never that, but you know, just drift off some night and well, that would be it. And I’m sure that if we made it to 132/140, we’d quickly re-do the pledge, upping those ages by a good thirty years. You can’t help but think about it–the end, your end–sometimes, but as you pointed out, in those moments it should be all the more reason to fully enjoy the present. Vanessa Redgrave is 89. Ringo Starr is 85 and he’s still performing, still touring–wow! Dick Van Dyke is ONE-HUNDRED years old. So onward! Keep going!
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Right, Ringo and others are true inspirations. They have slowed down a bit, but basically they keep doing their things at admirable paces. I salute them. They are showing us how to navigate the latter stages of life.
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We need a goalie for tomorrows game . Our 78 year old tender took one in the chops so you can fill in. No charge. We’ll pay your way and Sandy can film it. Dont worry we\llsuppy the equip and a extra big jock.
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I’ll be there in a little while!
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What an incredible adventure that must have been! I can only imagine. And good for you for being so daring. Of course, I was daring in my youth as well – although I did not venture so far as Nepal.
Thank you for sharing your perspective on aging. I am right up there with you. I am 75. And even as I type it and think it – it surprises me. I don’t feel like I’m 75 – well, except for when i’m walking my dog and my hips are telling me to hurry up and sit down. But, mostly, I feel great and I’m hoping for at least 20 more years. Still, at this point, I think about my age more often than I would like to. Not that I contemplate death particularly but I do wonder how many years or months or weeks I have left on this planet and I’m not ready for my trip to be over. But we all know that nobody gets out of here alive – so there’s that.
I’m hoping you and I have many, many more years to be well and happy and soak in life’s beaty and amazement. Be well, my friend……May the Force be with you. ~ Linda
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Hi Linda. Thanks for adding your thoughts. Yeah, nobody knows when the Grim Reaper will yank them offstage. Life in a lot of ways is a crapshoot. But we’ll keep on doing our things. Maybe each of us will make it to the 100 mark and beyond. You never know!
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A poignant post that I’m sure everyone can relate to…I even hear 30-plus-year-olds calling themselves old. How ludicrous!
Your thoughts remind me of the Pink Floyd song: Time – “And then one day you find, ten years have got behind you, no one told you when to run, you missed the starting gun.”
But if we stop and dwell on it too long, depression will set in, so here’s to ‘onwards and upwards’!
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Right, we need to keep on trucking.
Have a great day.
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Agreed, time seems to evaporate. Good thing you did some magnificent traveling to appreciate now!☀️
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Hi. Onward!
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Beautiful, profound and amusing reflections, Neil! It’s great how our belief in our immortality seems to last for decades – long may it be so!
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It’s a belief worth hanging onto!
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