It was a year ago last Sunday when I suffered a heart attack--a day I shall never forget. My background in cardio-pulmonary medicine alerted me to exactly what was taking place, and allowed me to take the necessary steps to save my life and prevent ischemic heart damage. A couple days in the hospital and two stents later I was on the mend. Two weeks later I went back to work, maintaining the same, demanding schedule.
I've always told everyone else to take time to smell the roses, but failed to heed my own advice. I've worked hard all my life, beginning at age 10 cutting lawns with a push mower in Baltimore. The schedule has always been 6 to 7 days a week, and that didn't change until last January when I took the month off to visit a number of Zoners in the sunny south.
This past Sunday, was another rare day off. The weather was sunny, warm and breezy, a great day to go sailing. My wife and I climbed aboard my sailboat at about 3 p.m. with a cooler chest filled with ice, beer, a bottle of wine, a block of horseradish cheese and some wine glasses. It was a celebration of sorts, one that commemorated my one-year anniversary since the heart attack.
We sailed about 32 miles altogether, well into the starlit night. As we glided silently back to the marina and watched the beautiful array of tiny lights blinking across the Chesapeake's tranquil surface I thought about all the things I've done over the past seven decades. For me, there's always something new to discover, something just over the not too distant horizon. The thing that fascinates me most, though, is all the wonderful people I've met in my lifetime, many of whom frequent this forum.
This morning's reality check was when the calendar reminded me that in just two months I'll be celebrating my 70th birthday, another of life's many milestones. And, for the first time in more than two decades, I'm not working on my birthday. If the weather's fit, I think I'll take my wife and children sailing that day--seems like a good way to celebrate 70 years of having fun. For me, life has been a hell-of-a great ride. And those of you in my life have made it a wonderful ride as well.
Thanks everyone,
Gary