Last week I attended a double memorial service at Arlington National Cemetery to celebrate the lives of Jim and Sally Paxton, close family friends who played a pivotal role in my life growing up.
A dynamic duo, the Paxtons were full of zest, energy, and always extended an open invitation to drop your worries, grab a beer, and float your cares away in their beautiful backyard pool. Still madly in love in their 80s, it felt fitting to lay them to rest as a couple after losing them both last year.
As always, death comes with reflection and contemplation. In this case, here are two life lessons I took away from the Paxtons’ passing.
Lesson #1: Surround yourself with older and wiser people.
When navigating the professional world, it’s mandatory to find humans who are wise, experienced, and have a hard-earned perspective. You know them as mentors. And if you’re fortunate enough to have some good ones, then you know the immense R-E-L-I-E-F that comes with listening to them talk about what really matters. It makes me exhale, just thinking about it.
I’d argue that the same need exists in your personal life, too. We all need access to elders — the grandmothers, grandfathers, family friends, churchgoers, and neighbors who are wise enough to know that nobody goes to their grave wishing they’d spent more time on their to-do list.
Jim and Sally Paxton taught me that work can wait, family comes first, and there’s nothing better than sitting around the pool with a stiff drink as you talk and laugh with the people you love.
Life Lesson #2: Never forget your destination.
The most alarming reality check during my trip to Arlington National Cemetery was the sobering reminder that one day, we’ll all end up in a box. Just like Jim, who everyone called “The King,” and Sally, a benevolent mother to four boys. We’re all working our way toward the same destination.
A big ol’ box.
So, my question to you is this: If that pic is your final destination, why wait another day to be happy? Why stay in a job that makes you miserable? Why hang with friends who bring you down? Why yell at yourself for not being a better mother, when you know you’re doing your best?
One day it’ll all be over and your never-ending to-do list, spotless volunteer record at your son’s school, and relentless efforts to do, accomplish, and be more will be rendered useless.
As your loved ones stand around your box singing, “Amazing Grace,” wouldn’t you RIP a lot easier knowing that you arrived at your happy place long before you arrived at your grassy resting place?
Stop putting off what brings you joy. My hope for you is that you’ll show up to your box knowing what mattered most in life and that you pursued it with gusto.
