Tuesday, December 11, 2012

On Old Age and Dying

I read an Onion article today about a 38-year old man. 38's the kind of age that, when you're growing up, you think you'll never be. It's the kind of age where, probably no matter how old I am, I'll always think I'll never be. Even when I'm 42, or 69, or 107. Kinda like how I still have out-of-body moments when I read about famous people being 22 or 23, and for a brief second I think, "Wow, maybe I'll be famous by the time I'm 23." And then I realize...


And then this happened: in ten years, I'll probably be married to a 38 year-old. And in twelve, I'll be 38 myself.

And then I realized that my parents probably only have 20 years left to live at all.

(Cue strains of Five for Fighting's 100 Years.)

Memento mori. They're gonna be the death of me.

A few weeks ago, I was talking to the honey-voiced boy about the sadness that life is enshrouded in. The kind you tap into when a warm wind starts up on a dark spring night. The kind you feel when you see how quickly the days evaporate before you, how temporary this current state is, how all these things we take for granted will, in the blink of an eye it seems, change. The kind of sadness that comes when you see goodness all around you and wonder if you've given it all enough of yourself.

In two months time, I will have left this Utah home. I maybe might come back for good someday, but I also maybe might not. And once I've left, my sister will leave too, and then my brother&wife, possibly for good. The girls will grow up. My parents will age. And someday we'll all move away to different places and different lives.

This makes me cry.

I love everything about my life right now. Everything. Nothing is as sweet as what inevitably must change, and nothing is so lovable as that which you can lose.

In fact, I think I love most those things that I count on losing.

I only have this one little life.
Let me love.


  1. Oh, just stayin' up late and working on my thesis . . . :/

    Let me tell you that I understand you completely, and you're right -- change is sad. Scattered families are almost heartbreaking. BUT. As someone who has lived through her family getting older and moving away, let me also tell you that it can be quite fun. I have people to visit in every corner of the U.S. now, and when we get together, it is wonderful. Plus, we keep in touch via e-mail like never before, and if you live in a family of writers, this method of communication can be extremely entertaining. Oh, the e-mail conversations we've had . . . I love them.

    So take heart. You'll be alright. :)

  2. Oh Carolyn, I do love you. You are a wonderful person with a beautiful, intriguing mind. And you are capable of so much love, so yes, just give it all away. Keep on giving. The world will give back :)

  3. My grandma is currently on her deathbed right now and it has really made me realize how fragile this life is, and how it's my parents that will be next (and then me). Yikes.

    I always have extremely mixed emotions about change. I get so excited for the new, but sometimes it's so hard to leave behind the old, too.

    Basically, I get it. Love you!

  4. mmmmhmmmm.

    "The kind you tap into when a warm wind starts up on a dark spring night." Always then!

    I wish I could write like you. I have to get into a -mood- to write but you seem to just pop this stuff out anytime!

    Did you mean to write on my facebook wall about going to The Chocolate sometime? Because I'm hoping you did.