I am sitting here this morning, latte in hand as usual, thinking about life. The Christmas break afforded me the moments to sit back and ponder the space between the beginning and ending. It was also a time for me to think about how sudden it can all change.
Our family lost a dear cousin a few days after Christmas. We are all still in shock because she looked so beautiful at a recent party. The airwaves were working overtime as the news traveled across the United States and reached into France. I sat in my car as my Uncle told me the sudden, sad news. This beautiful woman would not be there at the reunion, she wouldn't look at me and smile, she wouldn't touch me with the love of someone who loved me before I knew myself.
It is the new year and her funeral will be soon now that all her children have made it home. The hole in the heart is collective, we are still shaking our head, how did this happen? She was into her 70s so one could say it was her age, but her cousins, my aunts and uncle, didn't look as good as she did at the same party. It really is not up to us who draws their last breath when.
I sit and think about my remaining older relatives and how precious time is. It is easy to take it for granted that they will always be there, but always is not forever. My uncle is in the hospital, I made a beeline to his room to sit at his side. I drive into the city every Sunday to visit my elderly aunt, she my mother's sister who helped fill the void in my heart when my mother died. One day, these elders will be gone and the thought leaves me with a longing in my heart.
When I see my elders, I will embrace them. They are my ancestry, my history, my anchor. I want to capture their words of wisdom and the sharpness of their memory. Time really is too short.