Let it be…

Today I went back to work. Four practices starting with Grappy and ending with Chicago. All zoom. All good. Tomorrow I’ve got five. Wednesday six. Thursday four. Friday three. It. Is. Good. To. OPUS.

Krit and Penny came home to nurse me back to health. Amazing. Happy Easter celebrating Willow’s 37th with more family including my Sister Sue and some of her children. It’s been a surreal ten days since I stared death down and lived to see another day. No words to describe this feeling of getting a second chance of sorts. No words. So, tonight, while Miss and Krit cuddled on my favorite chair, I called Cbear to fill her in. We laughed and had just gotten started, really, when Doc Steve (Cardiologist) called. I told Cbear I had been waiting for this call for quite awhile and I had to take it. She understood, said a quick goodbye, and Doc Steve was front and center. He didn’t mince his words. FM, baby.

“How do you feel, Chet,” he began. Great, I told him matter of factly. Great. He wasted no time in telling me he had seen my heart and it was, in fact, great too. I smiled and asked him to tell me more. He did. He told me my heart looked strong and he verified it had no damage. My smile widened. He told me his plan and my smile was now ear to freakin’ ear. He said that by Saturday (2 weeks from heart attack) I was cleared to return to my normal activity. My heart might have skipped a beat as my smile began to almost hurt as it stretched the muscles around my eyes and mouth. I couldn’t really believe what I was hearing so I asked him to repeat what he said. “You are good to go.” I heard him loud and clear. He asked me what I’d been doing activity wise. I told him I’ve been riding the Peloton bike for the fourth day in a row and had just walked Muirfield Village for the third time. He laughed, the kind of laugh that comes from your belly. “Of course you have,” he said with a smile I couldn’t see but I could feel. “Keep it up, and I’ll see you at the end of the month, how’s that sound?” Like some kinda freakin’ magic, I told him. I asked him a few more questions about my swollen hand, listened to his coaching, and thanked him for all the good news.

Ten days ago I was staring death down. Today, I’ve got a life to live. Clarity has come in the strangest of ways. This was not a wake up call. This was clarifying. This was verifying. This was a MOT (moment of truth). This was a gift and it’s up to me to make the most of it. You know, friend, the same reality exists for you. This moment is a gift and it won’t keep on giving indefinitely. Live like you understand this as clearly as a death defying moment renders you. Live hard. Love harder. And, remember, the key to mastering the art of living is always in learning to love harder. Thanks, David, for introducing me to Doc Steve. Thanks, Grappy, for saving my life. Thanks, Krit, for filling my cup to overflowing. Thanks, Miss, for being my constant. Thanks, Mick, for calling ahead calmly. Thanks, Downer, for bringing me sweet treats with your bride. Thanks, Petey, and the entire band for loving my sorriness. Thanks, family, for making yours truly feel like he was worth fighting for. Thanks to you all…

So, Doc Steve cleared me to full gas. Here’s my plan. I’m not sure I’ll ever floor it again. I’m planning to ease in and enjoy it. More golf. More long walks. More time sitting at home. More time loving hard. Less focus on living harder. We. Shall. See. For now, however, I’m fairly certain – my mindset is simple. Let it be…