Story by Jon Stalnaker AKA The Studebaker Dude
Back in the seventies, when I was in my twenties, I wasn’t consumed with the thought of dying, but I did ponder it a few times. I mostly thought of it when I was in the military, singing “Well it’s one two three, what are we fightin’ for, don’t ask me I don’t give a …., next stop is Viet Nam”. I was young and invincible and being careful about what I was volunteering for. I knew I was sure to be drafted in 1970 after winning the 1969 draft lottery, having my birthday ball pop up after only 22 spins. Knowing full well that I was destined to get my “greetings” letter from Uncle Sam, I headed down to the recruiting office post haste.
Someone told me it was a good idea to get into the Marine Corp Reserves. I can’t imagine how I believed that, but my attempt at that one was not an option for me. They turned me away; it must have been a God thing. I went down the hall to the Air Force Recruiter and he welcomed me in. He said, “take this rifle son, gimme that guitar”. (not really, that’s just a line in a song that I like). I did this in January of 1970, and it took until June to get me processed in before I was wearing my fatigues. I was in Basic Training in Texas on my 19th birthday. I didn’t tell a soul; I silently sang myself happy birthday to me. The military worked out for me as I spent a pretty much fun-filled three years, eight months, and nine days out of harm’s way. I still believe that God saved me from that, knowing I wouldn’t be able to handle killing anyone.
The next five decades seemed like an eternity, as I wondered if I would ever make it to retirement. Looking back, it now feels as though it flew by at mach speed. When I was in high school, we used to say you were “over the hill” at 30 years old. I breezed through my 30s, 40s, 50s, and even my 60s didn’t bother me. But 70! I’m still trying to wrap my head around being an old guy. In my mind, I’m still 19, but when I try to get up, I’m Fred Sanford… It is what it is, and there’s no use whining about it. I just write it off by saying “getting old is better than the alternative”. I do what I can and try to avoid sitting around too much. I take a lot of pills though, and I don’t know who to believe about whether or not that’s a good idea. There is so much negative chatter about Big Pharma, that it’s hard to ignore.
When I was a youngster, I didn’t see myself getting old. On the other side of the coin, I didn’t see myself dying either. I have to thank Jesus for that as I don’t waste my time worrying about dying. It doesn’t scare me as I have done some pretty cool things that make me feel as though I didn’t waste my time here on earth. But the reality of my mortality is hard to ignore when I am one of two remaining in my immediate family of seven, including my parents. Losing parents is hard enough but acceptable when you expect them to go first. Losing siblings in no rational order is different. Being the youngest of five gives me better odds of being the last one standing, but that does not comfort me. I don’t want to be the last one.
But I am now a great grandfather and if I look at it from that angle, I have to acquiesce. Don’t get me wrong, I’m in no hurry to exit, even though the thought of Heaven sounds pretty good. I plan to continue to take care of myself as best I can and not worry about things that are out of my control. Every day is a gift from God, and I give Him the glory without hesitation. When He decides my time is up, I will be ready to go. Agonizing about such things is useless. I put my life in God’s hands and appreciate knowing that He is in control. If I didn’t believe that, then I (just like this crazy world we live in) would be a mess…
