When I shared with someone that a close friend of mine died recently, and that my dad’s cancer is incurable and he was given just a few months to live, she said, “welcome to middle age.” It is true. With middle age comes a few more losses than we’d like. Yes, there are many new rediscoveries and excitements, but it is a time when everywhere I turn I am hearing of or experiencing a loss. I have had many in the last few years, and on a regular old Monday they come to mind, of course - but it’s these high pressure holidays that put miracle grow on them all. I find myself wanting November and December to be done and getting a little ba hum bug about it all. Then I see some snow falling on Christmas eve and the brightness of a well-lit tree. I hear my dad’s voice saying grace, and appreciate what might be his last Thanksgiving blessing and hug him tighter. I learn to embrace the level of maturity needed to accept that I have lived half of my life, and have experienced vibrancy and adventure that comes with that - but the consequences are such that the older I get, the more loss I will have. So I have come to face that this sleigh ride from middle to old age has it’s sorrows along the way, and I look to my left and my right and see what is glistening along the way.
