Left to my own devices

"Recently, I've become aware that there are fewer days ahead than there are behind." - Jean-Luc Picard Back in December, I pontificated on what my 42nd birthday meant to me at the time. Turns out those were more immediate thoughts. During the intervening month-and-half since that birthday, a more long-term state of mind has come to the fore. Thoughts of life and of death, time behind and time ahead, have been been swirling in my mind of late. At this point, it is unclear if they are temporary, or if they're here to stay, perhaps needing to be dislodged by some sort of life-decisions? My father died aged 52. I was 21 at the time, and remember -- during those hazy days between his death and the flurry of visitation and funereal proceedings -- that would give me another 31 years, if I were to make it to his age before life ended. It's one of those things we can't help but do, comparing ourselves to our parents, in all our -- and their -- facets. ...

A friend's new profile photo appeared on my Facebook feed, a friend I've known since the late-1990s. Honestly, my first reaction was, "He's aged a bit." But then, looking back at the photo a moment longer, I thought, "He's actually still as beautiful as I thought he was almost two decades ago." And the beauty isn't just a remark on the physicality. It's an observance of the person, of the soul. Imperfect? Yes. But still beautiful. Ageing is an odd thing. It's been hard to escape the markers of feeling older because of the evolving physical landscape of places one once knew. The site of the hospital where I was born now sustains an apartment high-rise. Where once I knew fields at the edge of town, there is now a thriving shopping area with residences and, possibly, a new high school on the horizon. Many favorite shops and restaurants have come and gone over the years. The changing of insentient things during the passage of t...

We were standing in the waiting line at a visitation a few weeks ago, my mom and I. It was for the mother of one of mom's old high school and college friends. There were a lot of people there, and the line was moving slowly. A middle-aged woman approached us, creating a moment of recognition for mom and her. After talking briefly, the woman walked off, and mom mentioned how she'd been a high school classmate. Mom also said, "She pretty much looks the same." Now, I was a little thrown by my mom's remark about her old classmate. I could have pressed her about the comment, but didn't. The time and place seemed inappropriate. But I was curious. This woman, though she looked fairly innocuous and unassuming, by no means looked as though she'd just come out of high school. She looked, well, like a middle-aged woman. No harm in that, however, I wondered what mom had meant by how the woman pretty much looked the same. Was it just a turn-of-phrase?