Circle of Life
Photo: Public Domain image
The Circle of Life sometimes feels more of a triangle in that we are born, we live, we die. Shakespeare’s seven ages of man seems a fairly accurate description although perhaps three score years and ten extends a little more these days.
For some life is an adventure of exploration, travel, immersion into new cultures. For others it may be marriage, children, home and hearth.
Not that one precludes the other.
My father has always been my barometer, he has taught me so much and, I believe, has shaped me into the person I am.
At almost ninety six life is slowly ebbing from him as he lies bed-bound in a nursing home. He is safe, he is comfortable, he is well looked after. All his basic needs are met. He exists.
Yet when I sit with him, feed him and chat for a while his mind is as strong as ever. Tired, unable to retain new information or recall our conversation, but his resolve is there.
He had a good life, one of hard work that brought its rewards. He adored my mother who died five years ago, taking most of who my Dad is with her. Now he struggles to recall her which, in an odd way, is a blessing, having witnessed the intensity of his pain at her loss.
Some days I leave him sleeping to go to my twenty month old Grandson who I feed, and change and care for in much the same way as his Great Grandfather.
His life is just beginning, all the possibilities laid out for him to discover and decide which path will be his to tread. Watching him learn, the joy at discovering sand, his excitement at seeing animals, his voracious interest in wheels I am seeing the wonder of the world anew, through his eyes.
Dad does not remember his Great Grandson, some days he is not entirely sure who I am, and my Grandson will not remember his Great Grandfather. But I remember that they are friends, that they have found a level of commonality that amuses them both.
My Grandson will be brought up to respect those gone before, and will be given the many happy memories from me and his father, aunt and uncle who loved and were loved by them. Stories that may help shape him as he begins his journey, which I hope more than anything will be long and joyful.
We are born, we live, we die. And if we are lucky we are loved and fly free full of confidence, knowing that out back is covered for the perilous days. There is much to be said for dancing like no one is watching; live with joy when you can, grasp opportunities offered. The circle is ever moving, don’t get left behind.
