The circle of life has given the most mundane and the greatest of writers, poets, and orators the best fodder, but tonight the poetry seems to have excaped me as I wrestle with the birth of one and the death of another.
In birth, women take action to overprotect themselves, from "early detection" to eating strange things, to unbelievable odd medical and traditional (any one been to a baby shower?) rituals. We overprotect our children, worrying over silly things, making them live our dreams, or escaping from reality through them. We become over-involved in their schools and activites, helicoptering over them. We keep them inside, afraid of what the "outside" holds, and we forget to let them explore, for we keep them safe.
In the end it is all for not; as the end comes to all of us. It might be that fatal accident, the incurable diease, the horrid lifestyle that sped up the process, or just the age thing that gets us. It almost always comes too soon, and almost as often, it is unexpected. Even watching a loved one suffer from that cancer, the end is always a shock.
It is in those moments of frailty that we are reminded of the preciousness of life - in holding a newborn or attending a funeral, you cannot help but reflect on your own actions, you own dreams, what did you make of yourself and what will the world hold for this new life. I am reflecting a lot lately.
Words of wisdom are plenty. And I have none.
Just live every moment.