It is mid-October in America. The leaves have begun to change their color, and some have already fallen. Each year at this time, I reread Leo Buschalia’s The Fall of Freddie the Leaf.

The Fall of Freddie the Leaf

Back in the early 80s, when the book was first published, I really enjoyed it. Buscaglia’s newest book moved me, so I wrote to Buscaglia about it. Interestingly, he replied.

However, that was half a century ago, and I did grasp the point that Buscaglia made...at an intellectual level. That being said, during all those decades on my journey down the yellow brick road of life, many things have happened to me.

I’ve danced with death on the dancefloor of my life a couple of times. In 2008, I fell off a ladder and hit my head on a retaining wall. I spent a month in the ICU of a local hospital and nearly another month in a rehab hospital due to that subdural hematoma.

Interestingly, in the same year, I had my prostate removed robotically, which was successful. However, my prostate cancer had metastasized outside of my prostate. I took an experimental drug for two months. Then I went to radiation treatment daily for two months while continuing the drug. In both dances, I recovered completely.

While I wouldn’t want to relive either dance, I wouldn’t delete either of them from my life. Dancing with death taught me that my clock is ticking. Every person knows that they aren’t immortal. Nevertheless, do the dance, and you grasp your finiteness not in your head but in your very being.

The other annual mid-October occurrence happens when I get an email from Moh Moh. Moh Moh is my daughter and is married to Ko Ko, my son. They are the parents of my three granddaughters. For the past handful of years, my family in Myanmar has wished to pay homage to me. As with dancing with death, you know intellectually what paying homage means at one level. However, I went through a process of truly grasping it.

In Theravada Buddhism, Buddhists will celebrate Thadingyut, also called the Festival of Lights. This is a photo that my family in Myanmar sent me of their home. Buddhists decorate their homes with lights and visit Buddhist pagodas and shrines.

On my last trip to see my family, we went on a family tour to many places that most tourists don’t know exist. There was one place that I had been before that I wanted to visit with them, the Golden Rock. However, we would have had to drive around 12 hours south to get to the Golden Rock. If I were in Myanmar during the Festival of Lights this year, we would have packed up and driven to the Golden Rock as the destination for our holiday together.

The Festival of Lights at the Golden Rock

This season is also a time when Buddhists pay homage to people. Interestingly, it was Buddha who began this tradition by paying tribute to his mother. His mother died a couple of days after Buddha was born.

Theravada Buddhists will pay homage to those who helped them and whom they love and respect. This is especially true for the elderly family members. Several years ago, when they started paying homage to me, I understood that my family was expressing gratitude to a family member, me.

This is Moh Moh wishing me well and hoping to see me again.

My camera wasn’t working, so I couldn’t record them paying homage. I used my cellphone, and they sent this photo of our chat.

However, the elderly issue reminded me that I’m getting older. I grasp what Freddy the Leaf felt this time on his tree. In a couple of months, I’ll be 83. As I look from my porch, I see this tree, which was a small tree when it was planted twenty-five years ago. It is getting older, too. Ginger, my Irish Setter, will be turning nine on the 28th of this month. That makes Ginger in her late 60s according to our human calendar. She, too, is getting up there.

This is where having my family pay homage to me personally affected me. Elderly people aren’t immortal. I know that. I’ve danced with death twice in my life. Those two dances made me aware that my clock is ticking louder and louder. I know that someday, it will stop ticking. That reality has a fascinatingly positive effect upon me and others like Randy Pausch in The Last Lecture. Pausch said, “Showing gratitude is one of the simplest yet most powerful things humans can do for each other.”

Showing gratitude is the same thing as paying homage. Yes, I have helped my family. However, they have also helped me. It is a reciprocal relationship. Essentially, life boils down to my mantra: “It is in giving that we get.” The more we give, the more we get. Each of us is lucky to have come into this world. While we are here, the one basic tenet of life is to share. Our clocks are all ticking. Don’t waste your time indifferently watching the world go by. Giving and sharing with others will benefit them. However, you will benefit as much. While that might sound like an oxymoron, it is an eternal truth.