Two recent articles caught my attention.
One stated that life expectancy for adults in America has dropped;
the average age at time of death is now 76.
The other article revealed that, on average, an adult child sees his parents twice a year.
(Maybe the male gendered reference was telling).
I know this must be hard to believe for those of you among my friends
who speak to their mothers every day,
see them several times a week
and consider them your best friends.
You all are balancing out those,
like my own siblings,
who, at the time of her death,
hadn't seen my mother for 7 and 9 years respectively.
I guess my reaction to these articles was a profound
"Oh shit".
I'm 73.
If I'm average
(which of course I'm not and will deny being until my last breath)
I have 3 years of living left.
Roughly translated, I may have 6 more times of seeing my son
the artist who lives in New Mexico.
and I see him and his family several times a month.
But still, these numbers gave me pause.
What do I want the son I see less frequently
to know about me,
my life
and our life together
in 6 more visits?
What am I leaving unsaid, unexpressed and unaddressed?
More importantly, what does HE want/need to know - if anything.
Time feels like it's racing by already -
this just gives it extra momentum.
Just something to ponder at 2am when you can't sleep.
You're welcome.
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