my mother was just recently diagnosed with parkinson's disease.
my father is about to retire.
my grandmother just had surgery for colon cancer two days ago.
all of this information has made me melancholy but i am hopeful and trying to find light in the face of these new realities. this is truly the next chapter. one that came too soon. i don't dwell too often on getting older, i'm still excited for all there is to learn and do, but it has made me think quite often of my moments, and most importantly, the last moments. several times a day i find myself trying to remember the last time something occurred and get quite frustrated that my memory fails me. i'm trying to think that if maybe i think of each time i do something as being the last that perhaps i can savor it more.
when was the last time my father put me on his shoulders? did he know it would be the last time?
when was the last time i slept in the same bed with my big sister - talking late into the night and laughing at the silliest things ?
what was the last bedtime story my mother read me?
when was the last time i took grandma to bingo? will i get the chance again?
when was the last time i breastfed elodie? i don't remember and that makes me sad.
when was the last time i caught a night train? took a midnight swim in the ocean? slept outside in a hammock? will i ever do those things again?
i can count on my hands the number of times i will do any given thing again. push my daughters on the swing. read them bedtime stories. sing them songs. hug my mother. visit my grandmother. go to hawaii with my dad. maybe once, maybe twice, maybe fifty times...all i know is the number is finite. i need to start acting like it.
also, this song is wonderful...