Musings on Mortality

 There's been quite a bit going on this week, but the number one thing I have taken out of this week is the amount I've been thinking about mortality lately.

Last weekend when my wife and I were taking down Christmas decorations, I can't remember what triggered it, but I was upset by the fact that my Grandmother didn't live to meet my son, and specifically spend Christmas with him.  Then, by some crazy train of thought, I realized that she only actually met one of her great grandchildren (there are currently four), and she never got to spend a Christmas with any of them.  I had to stop in the basement and just cry for a few minutes after that thought.

A few days later my wife and I were discussing how we really need to get our living wills created, and we spent a fair amount of time discussing what would happen if one of us should happen to die, or if both of us died.  It's not a conversation we have often.  It wasn't upsetting, but it's not exactly a fun conversation to have.

Last night on the way home my wife mentioned that she was sad that she didn't get more photographs with her grandmother while she was here for the holidays.  There were a fair few photographs taken, but I realized that what she really meant was that she might not get to see her grandmother again and, while she loved the two months her grandmother was here, she is scared she won't have enough photographs of their time together to appreciate these memories in the years to come.

These are just some examples, but lately I've just been pondering mortality a lot.  I've never really given it a ton of thought.  I mean, sure, I've been to the funeral of three of my grandparents, two great aunts, and, most depressingly, a two day old infant who was born to a member of my family with a whole in his heart.  I've thought about death before, but I've never really put thought into mortality, and what it means for life.

The other day I was listening to Fun., and I heard the line, "...we talked and talked about how our parents will die...", and I realized I've been thinking lately about how my parents will die.

You ever really look at someone you've known for a long time?  I heard once that we don't see people we know well, at least not fully.  The last time I spent time with my father I looked at him, really looked, for the first time in a really long time.  His face is so different than I realized.  In that moment I understood that he is aging.  I hadn't seen the age marks on his face until that very moment, and the realization hit me like a truck.

I don't spend enough time with my family.

But most of the time I just...go on with my life...and don't consider it.

I know if I spent all my time thinking of mortality that I'd have no life to be concerned about losing, but I don't feel like spending no time thinking about it is healthy, either.

This post didn't go quite the way I wanted.  It's taken me an hour just to get here.  I'll try coming back later...