Random Thoughts On Outliving My Father

We all experience different milestones in our lives – whether graduating school, getting married, having kids or even buying a motorcycle. I have actually never experienced that last one. But I have experienced a different one – I have managed to live longer than my father did. It is an accomplishment that makes me stop and think. Some of those random musings follow.

As this is published, I am 3 days shy of my 66th birthday. The time seems to go faster every year, and I can scarcely recall how I got here so quickly. But this new anniversary of life on Earth is bittersweet for me because my father died 8 days short of his 66th birthday.

Dad at age 65 was an entirely different thing from me at 65. His last twenty years were lived under the clouds of one health problem after another. He bore up under them as well as anyone can, but those issues limited him a lot

My father led a unique life, with many choices that led to those health problems in his later years. He was born into a life of wealth and privilege in Philadelphia’s toney “Main Line” suburbs. My grandmother always steadfastly maintained that they were “middle class”, but in my world, middle class people of the 1930’s and 1940’s did not live in 22-room houses. My dad and his mother had an ongoing battle of wills, which led him to run away from home when he was only 14 years old, so probably around 1949.

He took trains as far as he could go, which turned out to be San Francisco. Once there, he spent a couple of years living hand to mouth in the notorious tenderloin district. He didn’t talk much about those years, but he once told me that when he would get hungry enough, he would go out at night to steal milk bottles, turn them in for the deposits and buy a can of beans, which he would heat on the radiator of his room in the YMCA.

At 16 he lied about his age and enlisted in the Army, under an assumed name that he borrowed from his family’s gardener back home. He went to Korea and became an MP because he figured that arresting drunken soldiers and sailors in Seoul was safer than the combat going on outside of the city. But his parents eventually found him through the use of private detectives and contacts with a Senator. They had him sent home, where he began plotting how to get away again.

He was exceptionally bright, and after some brushing up, tested out of high school. I once asked him how he chose Indiana Tech, a small engineering college in Fort Wayne, Indiana. “It was as far away from home as I could negotiate” was his reply. His degree in mechanical engineering (with a minor in nuclear physics) got him in the door as a sales engineer with a company that made things from Teflon, and a decade later he was a self-employed management consultant. Dad always often worked at an insane pace and always seemed to be under lots of stress.

Dad had a wicked cigarette habit that was somewhere between 2 and 3 packs a day through the years of my childhood and adolescence. And after his young years of privation, he made up for it by eating a diet that mainly consisted of steaks (always ordered “rare but warm”) and then a Manhattan or two to go along with them. Vegetables? Exercise? No thanks.

This all went pretty well for him until he had his first heart attack at age 46. His doctor told him quit smoking and to sell his business. He did both – and got a job in the HR department of a big company, which I don’t think he enjoyed at all. Quitting smoking came too late to forestall the lung cancer diagnosis at age 49, which led to the removal of one lung. There was another heart attack at 56, which was followed by taking a disability retirement from work. The last straw was the diagnosis of a brain tumor at age 63, which began his long, slow final descent.

Those birthdays – 46, 49, 56 and 63 were big ones for me. I quit smoking when I got married, but my diet, exercise and stress routines were scarcely distinguishable from those of my father. Yet somehow, I got through each of those milestone birthdays unscathed. And now I have passed the final one.

As we advance through life, parents are natural examples of how we should (or should not) navigate the ever-advancing phases of life. Reaching the age of 66 forces me to look to men other than my father for examples of what getting older will look like. There was my grandfather (Dad’s dad), but I never got to spend a lot of time with him. He did live to nearly 101, and I am pretty convinced that I may have inherited a decent share of his genes, which is a good thing.

Being healthy enough to retire a little early and drive a truck for a living is something my father never got to experience for the last decade (if not more) of his life. Dad’s history makes my own situation a blessing that I appreciate. A lot. In thinking about it, it kind of feels like I have entered life’s bonus round.

But first, I feel like a steak (medium-rare, but if it’s underdone I won’t send it back) and maybe a Manhattan to go along with it. And then I suppose there is nothing to do but get on with being 66.

32 thoughts on “Random Thoughts On Outliving My Father”

  1. Thinking about your aging in terms of your father’s life is wise but heavy. I’ve seen it happen with others, primarily my father.

    My dad’s dad literally fell over dead one Sunday night when he was about six weeks shy of his 47th birthday. In turn, I remember when my father hit his mid-40s he was edgy for quite a while. One night at dinner he announced he was as old that day as his father had been the day he died. My mother and I already knew that as we’d been keeping track of it.

    My father is now 81 and I’m paying attention to him. Not a comparison but seeing what I might anticipate along with knowing what behaviors to avoid. Amongst all this is knowing I take more after my mother’s family, although some unwelcome traits from my father are popping up, such as hereditary hearing loss.

    I suspect you are correct about getting your grandfather’s genetics; you’ve always appeared to have a robust constitution which will continue to serve you well.

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    • The genetic Lottery is an important game!

      65 seemed like something at least close to old age when my dad died, but certainly doesn’t feel that way to me now!

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  2. This is a wonderful entry on your father, and something for everyone who always thinks about their father, good or bad. My parents were “older marrieds” and as such, had their kids in their thirties, rare for the fifties. All the great advantages of this, like being raised by cool thinking adults instead of nutzed up crazies just out of their teens, were balanced by the sadness of having my father die at 87 (not a bad age, and relatively quickly without a lot of medical problems), when I was only 49. Most adult males really come into pretty great relationships with their fathers in the early 60’s when their Dads are in the 80’s. They’re winding down into retirement and start spending more time with their Dads, something I felt robbed of. I was still working 65+ hours a week, and in the middle of another cross country move and reestablishment when my Dad got sick for a week and died. I was lucky enough to spend a little time with him on his 80th birthday, something I still think about all the time. I’m perfectly happy to raise a Manhattan to my father, and I think we all should. Sometimes flawed, sometimes perfect, but I’m sure they all gave it their best try!

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    • Thanks, Andy! My dad was only 24 when I was born, so I guess I was not quite 41 when he passed. I was in the thick of marriage, 3 little kids and a career at the time, and would have loved more time with him as I got a little older and wiser than I was then.

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  3. Currently at age 90, my father has lived longer than any other family members I know of. He has his problems, but he’s hanging in there.

    I seldom eat steak, have never smoked, and drink very, very little. Dad did a little more of those, but not much. We’re both very thin.

    Will I outlive my dad? Idk, but medical advances may come in the next decades which could provide life-extension possibilities that we can’t foresee now.

    Time pushes us ever forward, whether we want to go or not. I believe the universe is based on Love, and even though we “see through a glass darkly”, we “walk by faith”. At some point we will know and understand the grand purpose of it all, and give thanks.

    This is actually a very exciting time to live on planet Earth. Live in the present moment and always follow your highest excitement!

    Below: Picture of Dad, taken a year and a half ago. (From the website curbsideclassic.com)

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  4. What an interesting life your father had! Main Line Philly eh? Did you see much of your grandparents and their 22 room house? Longevity is genetics and lifestyle, but possibly more genetics I think. I was lucky my mother lived to be 98 in good health, and she had some of her best years after I retired and helped her with her art career/shows, but everyone on her side of the family lived to be well into their 90’s. They had robust constitutions, with no history of heart disease or cancer. My dad’s side also, although his life was shortened by cancer at age 69, which I suspect was influenced by exposure to pesticides on the farm with no precautions taken back then, an age I will reach this summer and am not liking as it is too close to 70 and you really can’t deny you are a senior then. The problem with this decade is that people own age that you went to school with or worked with, start to die on you……

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    • Your mother was in great shape for a long time!

      We never saw the paternal grandparents that often, because those visits would stress my father to no end. My grandmother had many fine qualities, but she had unique ways to get under her son’s skin.

      On the other side, that grandfather died in his late 50s, a year or two before I came along, so not all of my family genetics are great.

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      • I had a lab test for apo-lipoprotein-A last year to see if i carry the bad genetics for cholesterol, it’s a once in a lifetime test, and it came back low which is good. I guess you change the risk factors you can if you have bad genes and hope for the best. I know I never want to be in the cath. lab again, so I don’t bake as much and watch what I eat, but I’m not obsessive about it. I never knew my dad’s parents as they were older when they had kids (40 and 55), and they had died before my parents got married, so not all my genes are good. They were both thin though, heart disease and broken hip. Something gets you in the end!

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  5. I will gladly raise a Manhattan to the memory of your dad, and to your reflection on your impending birthday. (Being a bourbon drinker myself, I tend to prefer my bourbon neat, but I do make an exception for a Manhattan since I love maraschino cherries…which are frankly probably much worse for you than all of the alcohol in bourbon.)

    I totally understand your situation. My dad passed suddenly at the age of 60 (or 61, depending on whether you use his American or Chinese age), and there’s seldom a day since I turned 60, just over 4 years ago, that I don’t think somehow that I’m living on borrowed time. I really appreciate your saying that your own situation is a blessing. That’s a terrific way of thinking about this, and one that I should spend more time reflecting upon myself.

    Thank you Jim. And here’s to all of our dads…who somehow manage to keep teaching us things from wherever they are.

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    • My Dad passed rather early as well, just 70, but he did not take care of himself. Suffice to say him and the bottle were problematic.

      Nonetheless, my Mom lived to 84, and I had two grandparents who make it to 86 and 94, so I figure to make it past my Dad’s finish line barring incident or unforeseen circumstances. I have the date figured out, it’s in 2027.

      You writeup Jim, and you thoughts Jeff gave me lots to think about and reflect upon. Thanks. Here’s to our Dads, and being Dads ourselves, doing the best we can.

      My avatar is me and mine, and our Dart.

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      • Thanks Lee, this was kind of a delayed Father’s Day post, but with that date looming, I couldn’t ignore it if I was going to write about him.

        I love that picture, and yes, 70 is too soon.

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  6. That was an interesting reflection as you embark on age 66 and compare it to your father’s life, health-wise. Back when your father enjoyed smoking, eating red meat and having a drink or two, there was not as much emphasis placed on health and the risks associated with these three things or he may have enjoyed less of these indulgences. Maybe after smoking ads were banned everywhere people started to take notice of the risks of smoking. Even though we’re encouraged to eat less red meat or limit our drinking to preserve our good health, I’m sure many people still eat and drink as they please but I don’t think cigarette use is as prevalent these days. I don’t know if my father is alive or not – he left the country for Germany in 1985, but would have turned 99 years old this December. Happy Birthday a few days early JP!

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    • Thanks Linda! I think people aged faster back then. Dad didn’t drink much, but he sure made up for it with the smoking!

      Smoking is down, but good grief is it expensive now! The state minimum price for the cigarettes I used to buy is over $12/pack or $120/carton. I probably used to go through 3 cartons a month, which is getting into car payment territory now! Dad’s 2 carton a week habit would be close to $1000 a month now!

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      • I agree JP – life was tougher back then and if a strenuous and backbreaking job was not wearing you down, it would be stress like your dad might have encountered with his line of work.

        As for smoking, I can remember my mom’s carton of Pall Mall Golds went for about $3.00 at the time she quit smoking in 1985. When we visited my grandmother in Canada, she had neighbors who helped her out sometimes, so we took a few cartons of cigarettes for each of them as they were paying the outrageous sum of $15.00 per carton at the time and those were smaller cartons as I recall.

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  7. My father passed away at 86 years old. He never smoked, rarely drank alcohol and stayed active. He was healthy until 10 months before his death. His legs became weaker, and once he had trouble walking and had to stop driving, he essentially gave up and went downhill quite rapidly.

    I don’t know if that is what is in store for me, but I do make it a point to eat healthy and exercise regularly. In the end, however, we all meet the same fate. Some of us just meet it sooner than others! I’ve been reminded of that this week, as a high school classmate just passed away after a long battle with breast cancer.

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    • Yes, none of us gets out of here alive. I got a call a few weeks ago letting me know that an old friend had died. That sort of thing is going to start happening more often.

      Your father’s experience doesn’t sound like the worst way to go.

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  8. Happy 66th! That seems like quite a young age to me – I passed that milestone almost a decade ago… I have just passed the age that my mom was when she died but if I have my dad’s genes, I still have almost two decades to go!

    Your thoughts are timely because I was just thinking about the why’s and how’s of avoiding the trap of thinking about being ‘old’. One blog I follow was bemoaning the changes in their appearance and health and their perception of how attitudes of people change around older people.

    I look at aging as an opportunity to tap into change. What kinds of things can you do to improve your future you? How do you change your thinking so that you feel ageless? For you it was a new occupation. For me it was weight loss, circuit training and wood working – and sharing the humour that is everywhere!

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  9. There is a lot to think about in what you say. That generation was quite different from ours (I’ll be 66 in February) and it sounds like you made some choices differently. I am recalling off the top of my head some of your posts about growing up and it sounds like you had a pretty different upbringing. Good post and Happy Birthday!

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    • Thanks Herb. Maybe it was also the difference in personality between my father and me. I do envy those my age who still get to hear a parent’s perspective. Fortunately, my stepmom is still with us and I always enjoy it when we can get together.

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  10. After reading this one I think you should change “Random” to “Powerful” in your title, J P. I appreciate your open, candid thoughts on this topic because I’d argue most of us baby-boomers are wrestling with the same thoughts. To what extent did we pattern our physical and mental well-being after our parents or grandparents? Like your dad, I think we all have that moment (or at least that inclination) where we want to break away. What we do – or are allowed to do – in that frame of mind may be the most formative time in our lives.

    Age is just a number but you can’t help but associate it with the way the lives are lived with those who come before you.

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  11. I love this post about your dad and your reflection. My dad made it a few months past 80 after some lingering medical issues in his last years. I have a couple of younger brothers who died in their 60’s and I remember one saying that he always thought 80 was an entitlement and then you hope for more. I am turning 78 this summer and should be rooting for time to slow down. But I find myself anxious to achieve 80 like when I yearned for 16 and 21.

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    • I remember my grandfather who was always reaching for that next birthday. He would say “I’m in my 91st year” when he was 90 – which was true, of course.

      I have done a lot of maturing in the last 25 years and there have been plenty of subjects in that time I would like to have heard my dad’s thoughts.

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  12. Hi, JP! I rarely comment, but this is too moving for me. My Dad passed away 39 days shy of 60, when I was 16 and a half. He died of colon cancer, but had had a very large stroke a year and a half before. He almost never drank and when he did it was with utmost moderation, he never smoke, he walked a lot, and was relatively fit. His diet was carnivore, that’s right, and he passed in 1982, so things were not like they are now. He was a famed cardiologist, so it wasn’t clear how he hadn’t seen an irregularity in his own ECG which was in his study…
    He was 43 when I was born and my Mom 38, I have two brothers of 69 and 71, both of whom have coronary disease.
    So I decided quite early that I wanted to be a young dad just in case. Of course, I didn’t know that was something you couldn’t decide. Perhaps because I didn’t know it, I managed to accomplish it at 27 and 29, and my wife of 35 years is my high school sweetheart, so I was really lucky there. But, I kept also my “magic numbers”, which were to be there when my kids at least were the age I was when my Dad passed. I was there…. The last landmark was to get to 60. Or, 39 days to 60. A couple months before that, I felt at a loss for air going up the stairs for my checkup….That was a Friday, on Tuesday I was already in the UCI, post-surgery with 3 bypasses. Never a cigarette, never any kind of alcohol, but also never exercise and chronically overweight. It was a tough and stressful time for all, wife and kids (29 and 31 yo), but I managed to get to 60 and I’m working again, tomorrow marks 90 days since surgery.
    Oh, and my Mom liveed to 93, so there are some good genes along the way!!!!

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    • Rafael, first off, thanks for commenting. Wow, that was a close call for you, and I am so glad to hear that you have come back from that one! Hopefully after that maintenance session you have plenty of good years ahead of you.

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  13. This one hits home. I knew Mom and Dad called your father “Big Jin Cavanaugh,” but I hadn’t known anything about him aside from what you’ve written. He was an interesting guy, to say the least, and saying the least doesn’t do the man justice.

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