Feb 4, 2011:
I am now 36 years old. Officially middle aged, and dealing with people on opposite spectrums of life and death.
My grandparents, who raised me after my parents died, are both in the late 80s. Relatively fit, and lucid enough to tell me: “We won’t be around much longer.”
They are privileged to have lived this long, but cursed with that awareness of mortality. Sometimes senility can be a gift.
On the other end, I am raising three young children. One just a year old. Just starting their lives. Obsessed with knowledge and wonder and what lies ahead. Blessed by ignorance and innocence. Their antics bring me so much joy.
Dying guardians. Growing children.
Life is supposed to be more spread out.
I see the blossoms and the withering all at once…