Cherishing Life’s Moments: Navigating Family and Fragility

I wish I could remember who said this on a podcast related to death. The gist was that some people’s lives are short stories while others are epic novels. There is no guarantee of how long we live. However, we get to choose how we write and rewrite the story throughout our lives. The one thing that we are all subject to is the fragility of this one precious life.

I’m at the crossroads of being two-thirds of the way through my life if I follow my family’s lifespan. Both my parents are still alive, but they are changing due to illness and age, and it’s painful to watch. I also live on the other side of the country and have a condition that makes traveling hard. The last time I flew to see them was in April 2020, when I took the red-eye to Florida because my mom had emergency surgery. My dad was on his own and could not go to the hospital because of COVID. Mom was in the hospital for two weeks. I stayed with my dad, providing support until after my mom returned from the hospital. That was the last time I saw them. I developed vestibular neuritis ten days after I arrived home and have not left Phoenix since.

I talk to my dad every day. Mom used to get on the phone more, but it’s harder for her to have conversations because of her two conditions. I loved when she told me how proud she was of me and how I’d reinvented myself over and over again. What a great thing to have repeated! Now, if she’s next to my dad while we talk, I tell Mom I love her. She always says, I love you, and God bless you! Sometimes, I hear her singing in the background. I treasure each of these moments.

Having lived through my husband’s death, I know how painful it is for my dad to see the woman he’s loved for over 62 years becoming frailer. I know the only thing I can do for my dad is call him daily and be supportive. 

It’s also hard to think of a life without my mother, though I don’t want her to suffer. The reality is that there is never enough time to spend with those we love. Acceptance and letting go are the two hardest things. Sadness and joy walk hand in hand as I navigate this part of my journey. When my mind drifts into the future, I ground myself in the present moment, taking inventory of where I am and what I’m doing.

Just for today, I will appreciate the love I have been blessed with and every moment I have with my parents.