The Rose, Thorns and all.

Sitting at my desk beginning my day, time is a part of my thought’s. I think, ” I am 32. I am past my youth, soon to be middle aged, soon to be old, soon to be gone. This thought asks me to feel depressed as if I am losing something of great value. But I stand back, and I observe thinking to myself “no, I don’t think I want to feel that way.” I don’t see the wisdom in positioning myself against the natural and true passage of time. And then I think of my grandparents, my boy’s great grandparents, of how they don’t have a great number of days left here. And I wish they spoke of their old age more optimistically, with gratitude, even romanticism. Rather than the sadness and unhappiness that’s common in my grandfathers words.

What a trip this life is. From how we come into it, to how we go. My prayer is that we give of ourselves while were here, love one another, and give thanks that we get to share it together.