The sun sank lower in the western sky and the heat of the summer day lessened. A glorious sunset turned jet trails and cirrus clouds ablaze in several shades of orange.  Although the sky would be light for hours to come, the shadows in the farmyard lengthened. My 77-year-old father and I walked on the lawn around the garden, orchard and flowerbeds. I was his youngest child, born the year he celebrated his 45^th birthday.

Daddy had spent his entire life working hard as a farmer, having taken over running the farm from Grandpa in his teens. Instead of retiring as many people do, he chose to continue doing farm work, despite having sold the farm to my brother 12 years before. He looked tired and every bit of his age. He didn’t feel well. In fact, he hadn’t felt well for a long time. The invention of treatment for his medical complaint was still several years away.

The shaggy orchard grass felt pleasantly cool as it brushed against my ankles. Our conversation took a sad turn when Daddy commented, “I’m ready to die.”

I was horrified that he felt that way. Being 32 years old and the mother of two very young children made it impossible for me to understand how he felt, so I instinctively exclaimed, “Oh, no!”

Daddy calmly explained, “I’m sorry, but many of my friends have died already, and I don’t feel good anymore. I’m ready.”

Troubled, I questioned, “Do you wish you could start over and be young again?”

His prompt answer surprised me. He declared without hesitation, “No.” My heart dropped. I couldn’t understand why he felt that way, and why he was so adamant.

I always thought that having a second chance was a good thing. As a young adult, I looked forward to all the possibilities that lie ahead.

As a young child, my friends and I would declare, “Do over!” whenever our play was marred by arguing. By starting over, there was a possibility the new outcome would be better, and less disputed.

The 1993 movie, Groundhog Day starring Bill Murray and Andie Mac Dowell, pushed the limits on the idea of doing a day over until a desirable outcome occurred. The character played by Bill Murray was a jerk. Each of his time-loop days started out as a clean slate. No matter what he did, there were no consequences and the days kept repeating. This situation resulted in him acting like even more of a jerk.

Eventually, Murray’s character became depressed by this strange imprisonment. There was no escape. He repeated that one day over and over without end in sight. Giving up brought no relief. What ended the cycle was love and the desire of Murray’s character to remedy that day’s problems.   

With the start of a New Year, the days and months lie before us like clean slates. If you didn’t like last year, you could choose a different course to follow to change the outcome. It’s hard to live up to New Year’s resolutions, but it can be done; one day at a time.

That memorable stroll through the farmyard with my father took place 43 years ago. I sometimes think about the conversation we had that evening. Daddy died less than a year later.

I’m getting close to the age Daddy was when he told me that he was ready to die. It still makes me feel sad that he felt that poorly, and that at the time there wasn’t a treatment to improve his health. But I am finally starting to understand why he wasn’t interested in starting life over again.

Some people wish they could live forever, but I don’t. This does not mean that I want to die anytime soon, it just means that I think life is hard. Since I have already successfully navigated infancy, childhood, young adulthood, sandwich generation age, and having lost many loved ones, why would I want to run that difficult obstacle course again? Living forever would also prevent us from experiencing the life that follows death. I think whatever happens next will be amazing, and to miss that would be a huge tragedy!