Another Day in the Country
Famous last words
© Another Day in the Country
Someone got the bright idea to record final interviews with widely known personalities that wouldn’t be aired until after they’d died.
I’ve been listening to them on Netflix. Three are available so far: Jane Goodall, Eric Dane, and Gloria Steinem.
As I listened to the final interviews with people who had been interviewed many times before, I wondered whether there was anything they’d said differently or new information that was given because they knew they wouldn’t suffer any personal blowback from more forthright or truthful information.
I didn’t hear any particularly new concerns from any of the three other than perhaps Jane Goodall, who called out the president. I’ve a feeling she’d been pretty cautious in her life about making any kind of political statements.
If you’ve watched the television series, “Famous Last Words,” you’ll know what I’m talking about.
This, of course, got me thinking about famous last words of ordinary people like you and me.
“Would you like to do a video like that?” my sister asked me after we’d watched the latest segment, by Gloria Steinem.
“No, I don’t think so,” I said with a chuckle. “I think my family and friends pretty much know how I feel about things, and nobody else cares.”
That said, I think there are insights one has later in life that might be helpful to share with the general public, just in case they’re useful.
Goodall’s was the first segment aired on “Famous Last Words.” Actor Eric Dane came next.
He was someone I recognized, but I didn’t know that much about his career, which was cut short by ALS.
This handsome man sat in his wheelchair, helpless but brimming with good humor, admitting to addictions and insecurities that he struggled to overcome throughout his life.
His children are still young enough that he wanted to give them advice in this last interview, which translated into giving people everywhere the same advice — which I thought was really good information — so good, in fact, that now I’m going to give it to you. It’s the kind of advice that is never too late to receive.
“1. Live now, in the present,” he said.
He went on to say that in his early years his attention would wander off. He’d be in his head, worrying about things, but he finally learned that the past often has regrets and the future is still unknown, so the present is all you’ve really got.
“2. Fall in love with something.”
It could be a person but, even better, you need to have some passion, some joy, something to get you up in the morning, something that excites you, and then go for it.
“3. Choose your friends wisely.”
Find your people, folks you resonate with, and then show up for them. Love your friends, invest in them, support them because those friends will be the ones who will save you when hard times come.
“4. Fight” for what you want, where you want to be, what you want to do, and “never give up,” he said.
“This disease has taken my body but never my spirit,” he said. “Resiliency is my superpower.”
Well, my friends, we know about resiliency, don’t we? It’s one of the best traits of folks who survive in the country.
I look at our ancestors, those pioneers like my Grandpa Schubert, who put everything he owned into a boxcar and came across the prairie from Illinois to Ramona, bought a piece of land, and farmed it for half a century through thick and thin.
The girl he married, Augusta Bentz, was resiliency personified, giving life to nine children.
If there were no flowers outside, she took scraps of fabric and pieced them together inside on couch pillows and kitchen curtains.
If in retrospect you climb your family tree, you’ll find the resilient ones, the ones who handed down their DNA, their survival tips, their recipes, and recommendations for how to live, regardless of whether we were present to hear their last words. Their example spoke louder than words.
My last words in this week’s column will be from Socrates, who said, “Be slow to fall into friendship, but when thou art in, continue firm and constant.”
Good advice for spending another day in the country.