Lessons on living from a dying friend

Most of you never met Alan Wood. It’s really too bad. What happened to Alan is also a downright shame. I remember vividly to this day the phone call we received from Alan on a Friday night in January, 2007. At age 57, he was in great shape, ran regularly, and went to the gym, not one ounce of fat on him. Yet, despite all of those good things, he had not been feeling quite right for a while. He had some tests done. He called that January night to tell us the tests had come back. He had pancreatic cancer. His doctors gave him six months to live. He lasted only five and a half.

I remember Alan today because April 1 is his birthday. He would have been 61 today. But I also remember Alan today for another reason. It is because of Alan that I am here, living a pretty relaxed life, on the beach, in a cool resort town in Mexico, doing what I want to do, when I want to do it. It’s called living the good life. And three years ago, it replaced the daily grind and pressures of going to work, answering to bosses, meeting deadlines, commuting, and having a few scant hours to do the things I really wanted to do.

In his final five months of life, Alan was really too sick to enjoy much of anything. He still would come, on occasion, to the country home we shared with him in Guerneville, along the Russian River north of San Francisco, but as his health deteriorated, those trips became less frequent. However, during those times, we had a lot of opportunities to talk. His sole message: “Whatever you do, don’t let what happened to me happen to you.”

Like most of us, Alan worked, and worked hard, during his life. He bought a home in San Francisco back in the 1970s and was able to pay it off. He was half owner of the home we shared in Guerneville and it was nearly paid off. He had a new car. He paid for it with cash. He usually planned a couple of good vacations every year. And he really wanted to leave work. His accountant told him he could, and he could retire comfortably at an early age. But Alan figured he’d work longer, into his sixties, to assure that he would have more than he really needed as he grew old. If only he had known. If only any of us had known.

One weekend as his health was failing, Alan said he wanted to talk with us. That’s when he asked us to use him as an example of what not to do … remember “Don’t let what happened to me happen to you.” He told us to realistically look at our finances, and consider what life would be like if we quit work right now. If it means not being able to buy a new car every two or three years, that’s OK. If it means not spending hundreds of dollars every couple of months for new clothes, you won’t need them anyway. Maybe you won’t go out for dinner twice a week, but you’ll have the time to make some pretty great meals at home and have a fun time doing it. And imagine, just imagine, not waking up to an alarm clock, not commuting, not doing reports. It would be almost like being on vacation for the rest of your life.

It was all welcome advice. And as we researched what Alan was telling us, we discovered that with some minor adjustments, we could do it. So we did. Within a year, we both quit work, sold the big home in the Bay Area, moved to a smaller place in Mexico, and never… not even once .. never looked back.

So today on his birthday, I remember Alan with fondness, and with great thanks for his words and wisdom that changed my life. And while you likely never had the opportunity to meet him, it would make Alan happy if he knew others still now hear his advice … and achieve what he never did, before it is too late.