It was a good 40 years…

I did it my way...
Originally uploaded by lorenzodom

I’m dying…

Which is merely to say, acknowledge, accept—that I’ve likely entered the latter half of my life.

After all, even The Chairman of the Board, Ol’ Blue Eyes, the once-immortal Mr. Frank Sinatra eventually had to die too, at the ripe-old age of 82. Both my grandparents lived into eighties as well. And my maternal grandmother passed away at 94—so I’m not really worried…

Although, I did wake up with a sore throat this morning.

In the past, usually I’ve thought a sore throat was just a sore throat, and nothing more to fret about. However, lately, I’ve worried a little more about how, for the last 16 years, I’ve tried to make up for the first 24 years of being relatively straight-and-narrow.

In particular, I’m referring to the regular-irregular indulgence of-in tetrahydrocannabinol.

Hence, I’m slightly more paranoid than usual about my “sore throat.”

Of course, it doesn’t help that I’m dating a doctor who tells me about her dying patients, almost daily.

In fact, in the last 40 days I’ve heard the word “metastasis” 10 times more than I’ve heard it during my first forty years.

Hence, I woke up this morning a bit more worried than usual. Hence, I thought, “Regardless, nonetheless and allthemore—it’s been a good 40 years.”

I’m satisfied that if I were to die today, that I’ve left behind a legacy for my boys, which readily conveys how happy and how exuberant I’ve felt about living. And that, hopefully, will likewise inspire my children and others to feel the same about this wonderful life.

Hopefully, I will live another 40 happy, healthy and fruitful years, if only to enjoy my night on earth just a little longer.

Thus, I’ll think positively, and, for the moment, believe that I will survive my sore throat—especially since it went away an hour after I woke up…

(Although, I’ve still got that certain dull heaviness in my chest that seemingly makes it hard to breath every once in a while—the metastasis pressing against my lungs and all…)


And now, the end is near,
And so I face the final curtain.
My friends, I'll say it clear;
I'll state my case of which I'm certain.

I've lived a life that's full -
I've traveled each and every highway.
And more, much more than this,
I did it my way.

Regrets? I've had a few,
But then again, too few to mention.
I did what I had to do
And saw it through without exemption.

I planned each charted course -
Each careful step along the byway,
And more, much more than this,
I did it my way.

Yes, there were times, I'm sure you knew,
When I bit off more than I could chew,
But through it all, when there was doubt,
I ate it up and spit it out.
I faced it all and I stood tall
And did it my way.

I've loved, I've laughed and cried,
I've had my fill - my share of losing.
But now, as tears subside,
I find it all so amusing.

To think I did all that,
And may I say, not in a shy way -
Oh no. Oh no, not me.
I did it my way.

For what is a man? What has he got?
If not himself - Then he has naught.
To say the things he truly feels
And not the words of one who kneels.
The record shows I took the blows
And did it my way.

Yes, it was my way.

— My Way, Frank Sinatra —


Note: Because I believe it is important to give credit where credit is due, here is the story behind this seminal song in Sinatra’s repertoire, according to the writer of the song, Paul Anka, as relayed on his website:

Paul first heard the French song, Comme D’habitude (written by J. Revaux, G. Thibault, C. Frankois), in the summer of 1967 when he was in Europe. Although it had different lyrics and a much different feel, Paul instantly connected with the melody. After running into Frank Sinatra, in Florida, who mentioned retiring sometime soon, he asked Paul when was he going to write something for him...so Paul, determined to do just that, returned to New York, sat down at the piano at 1 a.m. and wrote the song. Five hours later, this seminal composition was finished and was sent to Sinatra. After hearing the song, retiring became a distant memory— ‘My Way,’ went on to become Frank Sinatra’s signature song, and one of the most recognizable songs in the world.