This past December I became seriously ill, and only later did I understand how close the angel of death had come on that first night in the hospital. Fortunately, those caring for me made sure he was ultimately kept away. I physically recovered, but emotionally I spent much of the year thinking about mortality, realizing I’m not exactly who I was before. I’ve carried an unfamiliar emotional vulnerability ever since, a sense that something deep inside permanently shifted.

I’m now 68 years old, and for much of this year, illness and aging, mortality and time, all got enmeshed together in my head in a way I couldn’t quite pull apart. How much time is left? Who am I at this stage of life? What am I supposed to do with whatever years I have? What is my purpose and how do I let go of youth and age with dignity while also remaining vibrant in spirit and energy in the ways I approach life?

I just recently started hearing the questions differently because I now can say I am also only 68.

I have a wife I love, children and young grandchildren who fill our lives, and work I’m still deeply engaged in and committed to with passion. I still care intensely about my family, my dear friends and the Jewish people. None of those facts have changed. It’s my thinking about........

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