I’m standing with my hands out against the shower wall. Hot water is flowing over my head and down my face. It’s mixing with the tears and washing them away.
Our existence is linear and there is only one destination. People get old or they get sick, and then they die. It will happen to all of us one day, but that doesn’t make it any easier to accept.
Near the end, the questions of should I or shouldn’t I become more urgent. I think about how it might have been if I was more present. I can’t escape the missed opportunities where I left things unsaid or undone, and how unfair it is that sometimes there are no second chances. The guilt of it all sweeps through my body and it makes me weak.
I wonder why it takes a loss for us to remember what is important. Why it’s so hard to find a happy medium between living for today and not forgetting our responsibilities. Why we continue to do things every day that bring us no joy as the end inches ever closer.
I’m standing with my hands out against the shower wall. I’m waiting for the answers to come, for life to make some sort of sense. Or maybe, I’m just waiting for the tears to stop.
For Grandpa Joe