During the summer of 2000, I first heard the Tim McGraw song, My Next Thirty Years, and instantly identified with it:
“ I think I’ll take a moment, celebrate my age
The ending of an era and the turning of a page
Now it’s time to focus in on where I go from here
Lord, have mercy on my next 30 years.”
At age forty-two, I was twelve years older than the person the song was written about, so I started jokingly referring to “My Next 50 Years, instead of the Next 30. I changed my main email address to “Next 50 years” and thought about starting a Blog under the same name. It was catchy and memorable. I liked it a lot.
The “Next 50 Years” was going to be my mantra from then on.
As I write this, another twenty-three years have passed. I have a Facebook business page, website, Substack, etc., titled “Next 50 Years.” Unfortunately, I didn’t start it back when I first thought of it; it was only just over a year ago.
Sigh.
Better late than never. I still like it.
What the Next 50 Years means for me has changed over the years.
Someone recently commented on my Facebook page, “You have a lot of gall to insinuate that you will live another day, let alone another 50 years! Don’t you know the length of your life is in God’s hands?”
Well, yes, I do know that.
I am not the only one in control of how long I live. Yet, I’m not going to start doing things that are detrimental to my health (running out into traffic, for instance) because I feel like, “What’s the point of trying?” My part does matter. I do have some control.
Remember the story about the man in a flood praying to God to save him? A rowboat, a motorboat, and a helicopter all came by to rescue him, and he said, “ No thanks, I’m praying to God to save me. I have faith.”
So, he drowned. In heaven, he asked God, “Why didn’t you save me? You let me drown. I don’t understand.”
God replied, “I sent you a rowboat, a motorboat, and a helicopter; what more did you expect?”
It is like my Grandmother would say, “You have to put feet on your prayers.”
You have to do your part.
At any rate, I understand the comment. The chances of my living another fifty years are pretty slim. I’d be 115, but it could happen.
Yeah, probably not.
With the help of a friend, I’ve recently gained another new perspective on the words in the title. Even as we leave this earth, our families will live on over the next fifty years and beyond.
True?
How will I and relatives who died before me be thought of in the next 50 years? Will we be remembered at all? If so, what will our future relatives say about us? Do we have any control over the narrative about our lives, starting right now?
I definitely think we have some influence over what is said about us when we are gone if we care about that.
What do your family and friends say about you currently? Do they think you are generous, funny, kind-hearted, adventurous, optimistic? Do you tell incredible stories, have a unique hobby, offer wise advice, or are always quick with a smile and a kind word? Do you have a lot of shared memories together?
If you are struggling to think of what loved ones might say, or even if you know for sure that it might not be overly optimistic, there is still time. You can start making small changes now, becoming more aware of the interactions and experiences you share with those you are closest to, again, only if it matters to you.
I have a wonderful, amazing friend who says, “When I’m dead, I’m dead. I don’t care what happens to me after that or what is said about me in the future. That is their business.”
I get that.
Legacy is only meaningful to some people.
My mom had little opportunity to leave or even think about a legacy. I suspect she didn’t think a lot about death and dying at age 26. I am sure there were many other things she wanted to do in life, including being a mom to my brother and me. We are her legacy, which is why, I suppose, I feel the need to give her a voice and to be sure to document her life.
Even though I was nervous speaking at my Grandmother’s funeral at the age of forty, it was important to me to say something significant about her life. I felt so indebted to her that I must tell others what a wonderful person she was to me, my son, and many others.
The same is true with my Dad; there was no doubt I would speak at his service. I even compelled my brother to speak.
I’ve spoken at a service for a co-worker and attended many funerals in my life.
It is vital to speak about the life of the person who has just left us over their graveside or as the ashes are scattered. Their life mattered. There was a purpose in their being here and a part of our lives. At least, that is my belief.
We are here for a reason. Our life means something. Our existence serves a purpose. We are part of the extensive scope of the universe. The connections we form impact the world around us and make ripples in the water, some larger than others. Again, all of these statements are my notions; however, I also know I am not the only one who has had these thoughts.
It was not my intention for this post to take a dark turn. I’m simply trying to explain what my Blog, newsletter, and marketing title means to me.
I think there is terrific optimism in knowing you aren’t done yet.
You still have time to do the things you have been putting off, time to make a difference for yourself and others, time to make meaningful memories with loved ones, and time to be grateful for all you have been given.
Don’t waste it. Time is so very valuable.
Even if you knew for sure you had all of the time in the world over “The Next Fifty Years,” take that opportunity to truly live and make every day memorable in big and small ways. It doesn’t take a lot of effort to do that; it just takes intention.
Even if your legacy is not important to you, you will nonetheless leave one of some sort whether you intend to or not.
Your loved ones will be grateful you took the time, even if it doesn’t all turn out as planned.
Thank you for reading!
Keep smiling!
xx
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