During the recent dedication of the John and Lile Gibbons Center for Arctic Studies at Bowdoin, one of my Bowdoin classmates (Class of 1964) recommended a book appropriate to our age group: “Eightysomethings: A Practical Guide to Letting Go, Aging Well, and Finding Unexpected Happiness.”

That book prompted me to write this piece. I invite all you 80-somethings (and ninety somethings and 70-somethings) to go through the same exercise.

Taking stock

Luck and happenstance have treated me well. Sure, I’ve had my share of health problems, especially over the past year: cancer (required chemotherapy); pseudomonas (requires monthly infusions, which may lead to hearing loss); hernia (required surgery); and back pain (time for the chiropractor). But all things considered, I’m pretty good on the health front. I can still walk from point A to point B without a cane or a walker. And I remember most of what I need to remember most of the time.

I’m blessed in many other ways. Fine relationships with my wife, two sons, two stepsons and nine grandchildren. Wonderful friends who put up with my foibles and jokes. A warm and loving church community. I can hold my own against my two sons playing daily games of Wordle, Quordle and Octordle. I can teach — and write — flash fiction. And strong connections with Bowdoin College, highlighted by interactions with our amazing host students, keep me in the game.

Paring back

My main paring back challenge involves getting rid of stuff in the house to prepare for an eventual move to a retirement home. We’ll get to that. Some day. Maybe. I’ve cut back on watching the news, although if it appears that Trump’s legal battles will finally bring him down, I’ll be glued to the television set. I won’t sweat the small stuff, although at age 80, barring a heart attack or a fatal disease diagnosis, it seems like almost everything is “the small stuff.” In the meantime, I’ve resisted overtures to join this or that organization’s board. And I’ve become more disciplined in establishing charitable giving priorities, although I’m still a sucker if the appeal comes from a young person.

Moving forward

So, what comes next? Well, I hope to maintain good relationships with family and friends. God and the good brain willing, I’ll continue reading and writing as long as possible. I will try to reach out to more people who need to be reached. I’ll be more intentional about keeping my body moving, even though it’s often easier to stay planted in a chair. Maybe I’ll take piano lessons again, because it’s a shame to have a baby grand piano in the house not being put to good use. Maybe I’ll do yoga. I’ll listen to more music. Maybe I’ll try to like kale. No, that’s too much. I’ll try to maintain an upbeat attitude, because no one wants to be around a constant complainer, whatever their age.

Tina says, “You’ll live forever. Just look at your parents.” It’s true that my dad was playing highly competitive duplicate bridge and telling corny jokes until shortly before he died at age 97. And my mother was tutoring a Chinese woman and completing crossword puzzles until she died shortly before her 90th birthday.

But you never know. You really don’t. Life is both precious and precarious. at age 80-and-a-half, I’ve already exceeded the average life span of American men. Every day is a bonus. And this day, in truth, is a very good day.

David Treadwell, a Brunswick writer, welcomes commentary and suggestions for future “Just a Little Old” columns at dtreadw575@aol.com.