Some things my father taught me: how to pick blue crabs, how to body surf, how to play poker.
The biggest thing I learned from picking crabs is that you should never underestimate the deliciousness of anything until you try it (other than the lungs- don't eat those).
What I learned from bodysurfing: keep an eye peeled for moments of the sublime, and surrender yourself to them without hesitation. It will be worth the abrasions and unpredictable nudity.
The lesson that packed the most was how to play poker. That game contains a lot of what you need for how to live, and almost all of what you need for how to die.
He died so well he made it look easy. Just the right combination of luck and skill− you’d think he was stealing a pot with a pair. He never even looked surprised.
But then, he wasn’t. He died a week after being diagnosed with stage 4 lung cancer, having been an enthusiastic smoker all his life.* There was no talk of chemo or treatment. Just, “Okay, let’s go home.” A few days in the hospital getting tests, diagnosis, pack, go home, die. The man could teach classes in that, too.
I think one of the reasons he made it look easy is that he was always ready. After he died, Mom pulled out the plastic notebook with the summary of their finances. Recurring bills in one table; monthly income by source in another. Accounts, investments, everything in one place. It took us all of ten minutes to figure out my mother’s entire financial status.
Don’t bet what you can’t afford to lose. Keep up with your stack. Know the value of your hand, but more important, get to know the people at your table. It’s a game− winning’s nice, but you play because it's fun.
*Some information infill for those who might be appalled about the smoking and cancer: my grandfather had Alzheimer's for at least a dozen years, and the last 5 were a grueling, heartbreaking ordeal that ended with a collection of strangers who used to have relationships. Cigarettes weren't a vice- they were an exit strategy that doubled as a sand-gnat repellent.