Life's Bookends

Many of you know my first grandchild recently entered the world. It's been a thrill to see and to hold new life.

I remember when I was a parent of young ones, day in and day out—in the thick of things, overwhelmed, tired—growth and accomplishments weren't always recognizable.

The changes are much more obvious now that I'm one step removed.

Showing up as the nonparent every few days, I've witnessed just how much a loving environment contributes to growth, for the child and the new parents. Their care and attention toward each other has been immediate and unconditional.

That kind of love nourishes the body, mind, and spirit.

Over the span of four months, I've encountered life's bookends: birth and death. Many of you also know I recently lost my mother.

You've reached out these past months. We've reconnected. And recollected. I'm grateful for your stories. You've reminded me that my experiences are not mine alone.

A couple days ago, I met with a friend and mentioned I've been thinking that soon enough (maybe too soon🤪) I'll be one of the next in line to pass on.

I mentioned how the passage of time felt infinite when I was young; life seemed unending. I've felt its finiteness as I've aged. Right now it feels like my final couple of decades will pass in the blink of an eye.

I haven't been thinking about that with a morbid or fearful obsession. Just contemplating the cycle of life. The circle of life. The way it has always been and always will be. Thinking about the sheer joy, and the shock and the sadness that continue to surprise me along the journey . . . even when I think I know what to expect.

There's comfort in embracing the bookends of life. In reflecting on beginnings and endings and finding value in the in-betweens. In learning from and growing through life's stages.

The bookends remind me to live each day more purposefully.

To live with love.

My hope is that we're each attended to with loving care, and that we offer that to others, unconditionally.