Date of Your Death…

Thanks to the great folks at MakeUseOf, the somewhat weird kick continues.

Now, we’ve got the The Death Clock, which is a steady reminder that your life isn’t endless.

Looks like I’ve only got to 12/20/2045 (roughly 1.1 billion seconds to go.)

Better get cracking!

And hey, eulogy speakers, now you can book it on your calendar.

The Last Lecture (Book)

Last September/October, my friend Jacob came over to hang out and said:

"hey, have you heard about the Carnegie-Mellon professor who gave his last lecture?"

He'd read an article in WSJ and together, we watched the video on YouTube.

To say it was inspirational would be an understatement of epic proportions. By now, you probably have seen it.

Randy Pausch, father of 3, husband, and Comp Sci professor is dying of pancreatic cancer and has only months to live. His lecture leaves you feeling uplifted about what it means to really live life.

Last week, Jacob dropped me a note:

I picked up 2 copies of "The Last Lecture" by Randy Pausch - the professor whose lecture we watched.  It's a very reassuring book that I think you'll like a lot.  It's also pretty short

I think Jacob was trying to send me a few messages with this book and I appreciate them. Some of them include:

1. Continue to live your life with an appreciation for the moment
2. Don't forget to be humble

and much more.

As I read this book, I thought of Randy's predicament, leaving 3 kids under 7 behind and how he desperately wants them to understand who he was...and struggling with the best way to do that.

I was reminded of a conversation I had with Michael Fishman after his mother's death, where he said:

"you know, I was thinking about your blog the night before the funeral. You know that you are leaving your kids...and your grandkids...such a gift. You are leaving them your own words and pictures, so they will really know who you were and what you thought. It's really great."

It made me feel quite good and encouraged me to continue my blogging efforts, if for that reason alone.

This book had me alternating between tears and laughter. It's not about dying. It's about LIVING.

I HIGHLY recommend it.

Holocaust Survivor and a Dose of Perspective...

I read Torah every few weeks at a local synagogue (not the one I usually attend).

This morning, while I rolled Tonka in the stroller, I was feeling a bit low, given my rough week.

When I arrived, I saw that the entire service was being led by the synagogue youth group. They were doing a fine job, but I definitely thought, "whoa, I'm feeling down, but whatever is going on with me, puberty is far worse!"

But, that's not the story I want to tell...

The real story is that in the middle of the service the Rabbi calls up one of his congregants, Nessie Godin, to announce her upcoming 80th birthday.

Nessie is somewhat well known in the DC Jewish community for her Holocaust-memorial related activities. She also happens to be the grandmother of one my high school classmates.

The Rabbi turns to the congregation and says:

"Some of you may know that Nessie is a Holocaust survivor and I bet there were times when she never thought she would make it to 80 years old."

Then, Nessie begins speaking. She's got an authentic, eastern European accent that added to the moment.

"You know, I look around today and I see all of these beautiful children leading the service and showing how much they love their religion. And it makes me really feel like we had a victory over Hitler."

My job of reading Torah wasn't done yet, but I was choked up. The woman in the 2nd row was crying. Just one of those moments to keep it real.

Getting Old is Shitty...

Or so says the 88 year old grandmother of the Bar Mitzvah boy I met last weekend.

But, you know what I've realized?

People who are getting old are actually ok with the idea of talking about getting old. In some cases, they WANT to talk about it with you.

Think about it.

They've never been there before. They're afraid of it. They want to discuss their fears.

Between this past weekend, a previous conversation with my Nana, and one with the NFO's, it's dawned on me:

When someone makes a comment such as "I'm getting old," the best thing you can do is...continue the conversation, as awkward as that may be.

Give a listening ear...see what happens.

Circle of Life, contd.

The three days in March from 8-10 were always a special time growing up because my grandfather, my aunt, and I had consecutive days of birthdays.

Last year, we lost Poppy and the March 8th part of the equation.

Today, we filled that void.

My brother and sister-in-law had their son this AM and now the three days of Birthdays in March remains whole, only with the next generation.

More than that, however, is the cosmic significane of the boy part of the "there's one for each of them" coming on my grandfather's birthday.

When I heard, I began to tear, as my kids and I had been speaking about Poppy this AM, right around the time that his great-grandson was being born.

On Sunday, we unveiled the tombstone for my grandparents. On Saturday, we welcome the next of their offspring.

One week: death, birth, and of course, that other certainty: taxes.

65th Wedding Anniversary...

One year ago today, my family and I gathered to bury my grandfather, Poppy, next to my grandmother, Nana, on what would have been their 64th wedding anniversary.

Today, many of the people who were there last year, reconvened for the unveiling of the gravestone.

There's certainly a void in all of our lives...one that can never be filled, but of course, we recognize that life goes on...and it goes on in the smiles of Calanit who sat on my sister's lap for the entire ceremony and the warm embrace of Erez who napped for most of the time on my lap and then, as 2 year old boys are wont to do, began to climb on the tombstones of others.

My aunt's friend, Carol, had the great thought of bringing roses to adorn the top of the grave and my sister-in-law, the rabbi, led a moving and appropriate service that touched all of us.

It's strange to think that it has been a year since we saw Air Force One pay its final salute to our Poppy and how much has changed in all of our lives as well. How much our grandparents haven't seen...and obviously never will; how the NFO and I work through stories and pictures to maintain the memory of Nana and Poppy within the minds of our children, knowing that the battle is an uphill one.

Hearing the stories again, surrounded by those who knew and loved them most, gave me a strong and warm feeling. I knew that, no matter how much time passes, they will always be a part of me.

I guess that's a hint of eternity.

Bittersweet Sunday Evening...

Football fans know the feeling of late season Sundays.

You start watching a game in the afternoon and it's light outside.

By the time you are done, it's pitch dark.

And that feeling that the season is over (yes, I know the playoffs are coming, but there's something about the regular season) as a marker of time passing gives you an emotional milestone in your lives.

It's no secret to blog readers that I'm a big football fan (kudos to the NFL on the Pats-Giants simulcast, btw) and that Passing the Football Through Generations is, in my mind, an important part of our family connectivity.

I had the privilege of watching the Redskins-Cowboys game with my dad and brother, Asher today and we all yelled with pure elation on the last touchdown that it startled the 3 small children in the room (Tonka, Paco, and Dalia-their cousin).

It was a great moment of Epstein male bonding.

Of course, as I've written many times, football=Poppy in my mind so I think back to the Empty Chair on a Sunday Afternoon and feel that hollowness of his absence and what all of those Sundays past meant...and still mean.

It's tough when you lose someone you love so much and who was involved in so many parts of your life. I think this is the first example of that for me, so it's a new feeling.

With the game over and another regular season in the books, I put the kids in the car, did the annual Xmas time drive-by of The Red House and remembered our "missing man."

Empty Chair on a Sunday Afternoon...

Had the sad task of going over to my grandparents apartment today to pick out some clothes from my Poppy's closet.

Now, he was a good dresser, so that part was fine. It was how empty it was. How cold. How quiet.

I turned on the Redskins-Bucs game and watched a bit as I sorted through the closet.

I thought of the countless Sundays past I spent there watching football, even until last season and how it has become part of our family identity.

I looked at Poppy's chair, empty, and felt the shivers go down my spine.

Life Expectancy, Retirement, and Your Kids...

Seth's comment on my 529 plan and financial advisor and our subsequent meet-up at the Denver FOJ led to him recommending a book to me. A few days ago, I picked up The Number.

Man, it is earth-shaking. At least to me.

Why?

Well, if you are concerned about saving for retirement (whatever that means) and figure that Social Security won't be there, this is the book for you.

What's more, it raises some very interesting issues.

For example...when Social Security began, lifespans were about 65 years, at best.

Now, if you make it to 60, you have a 30% chance of making it to 90.

What this means is that many people have woefully underestimated "the number," that is the amount of money they will need so that they don't outlive it. Plus, with improving healthcare, your odds of living longer continue to increase, but those years are increasingly expensive.

All of those boomers who figured on inheriting a huge amount of wealth as the WWII generation passes on made one miscalculation...their parents are living longer than anyone could have expected at the time of their births.

That means that boomers and people going forward will have to (or potentially have to) financially support increasingly elderly parents.

In and of itself, this is pretty significant.

But today, it dawned on me that it could mean a shift in the cost-benefit analysis of having children.

A friend was congratulating me on Baby #3 and asked me, "so, how many are you going for?"

"I take it one game at a time," I said, and then putting it all together, I added. "You know, it's a long-term ROI diversification strategy." I told him about the concepts of The Number and said, "the way I figure it, the more kids I have, the more sources of income I will have to help us as we grow old. Instead of taxing one kid, I'll be taxing at least 3."

Once upon a time (agrarian society), you had a lot of kids because you needed them as labor for the farm. In the industrial/early post-industrial era, kids became VERY expensive (and still are). I wonder, now, if the pendulum is swinging the other way because of increasing lifespans, lack of social welfare net, and most people's inability to properly save and plan for post-working years? 

Discussing Death...with Humor

Last night, I attended the shiva house of some people of whom we are quite fond. The deceased was the 94 year old grandfather of the couple.

As it turns out, we had lunch with the couple, their kids, and the soon to be deceased man, on the afternoon immediately prior to his trip to the hospital.

What I've noticed in the past few months is that there are many ways of handling death and, like most things, not every way works for everyone else.

When I arrived at the house last night, two of the grandchildren, my contemporaries, made remarks along the lines of:

"well, once he had lunch with you guys, he decided that his life was complete"

or

"you guys were the cherry on the top of the cake that was his life."

And the father (who was the son in law of the deceased) remarked:

"thanks for joining us for the Last Supper."

I realize that not everyone appreciates this approach, but it works for me (and for them.)

In an interesting twist, my cousin in Dallas had Skyped me earlier in the day. We share the same initials, which coincidentally, are the same initials of our common grandfather.

"I don't think I ever told you that you are on my will. If I die before
you, you get our grandfather's cufflinks with his initials on them."

"Well, that's too bad, because until now, I've never actually thought about
rooting for you to die first, but I guess I have a reason."

He got the joke and laughed.

Then, we both discussed how our wives' families may not have seen the humor (or what we think is humor) in it.

You may call it crass or insensitive, but for a group out there, this approach works (particularly when it is not a tragic ending.)

Looking for a good term though...