Every day seems to have an element of transition to me; transitioning from sleep to wakefulness, transitioning from home to work and back again, transitioning from one train of thought, or task, to another. As I age these transitions seem more obvious. I struggle to remember what I was going to say, names of people I should know, even what it was I wanted to pick up at the store. I am more aware of the decay of this earthen vessel my spirit and soul use.
Opportunities for activities I enjoyed change or go away. The lives of friends I love dearly transition in ways that may not include me to the same degree as in the past. Many of these transitions have an element of sadness and bring tears to my eyes when I think about them.
Last month marked one year since my father passed. My mother was recovering from a “should have been fatal” wreck. I helped Gus, my dearest pet friend of almost 20 years, depart this life. My supervisor lost his mom in that time period and his mother-in-law this past November. The mother of my former mother-in-law (who I love very much) passed away. Several of the “elders” from my childhood neighborhood have passed on over the last year and it seems almost weekly an email or two comes out about a co-worker losing a family member. I am more aware of the transitory nature of the earthly world we live in. The perfect, non-perishable home ahead is where I must focus. Not on the pain and decay of this one.
I am challenged to live and love well through it all.
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