I’m sure I’ve spoke of much of this before, but it’s on my mind, and like many of my students, you probably weren’t paying attention the first time around anyway, so it’s new to you.

A few years back, not that many, but enough that many people we cared deeply about are no longer here for us to turn to when we’d like to turn to them, the Chrest family was gathered at the farm as they often did. And as often (closer to always) was the case, stories and laughter were the currency being exchanged.

After one such exchange, with my Mom in the lead, my Grandpa Ardell turned to me and asked with a smile, “Is that mother of yours ever going to grow up?” Grandpa was in his early 70s at the time, with less time in front of him than any of us knew. Maybe he knew, but it was going to take more than terminal cancer to dampen that wonderful man’s spirit and hardy laugh.

A legendary laugh that exploded like no other. Some things fall away as we get older, some things we miss, some things are quietly forgotten, lost to the ages. I miss that laugh, I miss that man…so it goes. It’s not that my Grandpa and I did a lot of things together, we didn’t fish or hunt, he tried, and failed, to teach me pinochle, we didn’t stroll through the foothills of upstate North Dakota chit-chatting about life and such.

We never “did” much of anything together, but I did get to spend a lot of time around him, and judging by how often he crosses my mind, that was enough. Sharing time and place was all he needed to “do” for me.

My response to his question about my mom was, “You’re over 70, and haven’t grown up yet.” He seemed pleased with that response. He always seemed pleased with life in general, and a year or so later when he finished sharing the news of his terminal cancer diagnosis with me, he concluded by simply saying, without a hint of remorse, “I’ve lived a good life.”

A good life. The philosophers of ancient Greece spent a lot of time discussing, defining and pursuing “the good life” or “eudaimonia”, as they called it. If you Google the word “eudaimonia” you’ll find that it consists of the words “eu”, meaning “good”, and “daimon”, meaning “spirit”. Good spirit. That sounds about right.

Those Greek philosophers could have learned a lot about eudaimonia circling the field with Grandpa in his John Deere tractor, or sitting on the hump between the front seats of his Southwind motor home as his trusty navigator tried to keep him on course. Grandma Rose could have taught Tom-Tom and Google Maps a thing or two about reliable navigation. Plus, neither of those two can make a sandwich to feed to the driver while recalculating a route.

As far as I know, Grandpa never read a book on philosophy, but he could have written one, as it is apparent that he thought deeply, lived fully, and had a firm grasp on what eudaimonia meant to him.

Looking back from the vantage point that time, experience, and simply living life allows, I know that one doesn’t simply have a “good life” handed to them, that it doesn’t just happen, but rather it’s a process.

A process that comes about through shared time and place with good people.