Subtitle: Or, at the least, I think I believe
Sub-subtitle: Or, at the most, I believe I know
My dear friend Glynis, with her deliciously wry humor, offered this comment on existence: “Once you’re born, you’re done for!”
During her ninety-something years, Glynis has experienced manifold occasions to take solemn note of the inexorability of death; particularly in accord with the advancement of years. Given the reality of her longevity as one nearly alone alive in her generation and her relishment of life’s interpersonal pleasures, she consciously, constantly seeks and develops prized friendships with folk of all ages; they who, to a person, testify, “Glynis keeps us young!”
Still, the wisdom of her observation, for me, lies in the word “once.” For it is in the very fact of birth, from the moment of first breath, that one instantly becomes, yes, able to share in life’s pleasures, yet, too, vulnerable to all of the torments that befall humankind under heaven.
For these reasons, each and both, of joy and sorrow and guided by Glynis’ wondrous example, my appreciation of the importance, the necessity of relationships, day-by-day, as my years lengthen, deepens.
© 2021 PRA