Support group usually gives me something to think about. We talked about friends who fade away when you become a caregiver, of family who stand by you, or friends who do the same. I started thinking about her and a comment she said recently, of not having grandchildren.
When she said that, I felt that it was an issue for her, and for me. There is no one to live on after us. Not exactly true, because we each have a living child. But the line ends with them. Strange how that should matter. Is it an inborn feeling? Or a cultural expectation? I don’t know.
What I know is this: she and I have each other. There’s no guarantee how long that will last. Our life expectancies have been lived out. These moments are a bonus, and it is up to us to make use of them—with as much life, love, enjoyment, and fulfillment as we can create and share. I’ve seen how it can end, and what we have now is precious.
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