Mortality

My grandfather is dying. People keep telling us the end is near and they're surprised he lasted through last night.

I'm torn.

I love my grandfather dearly and want him around, but how much more can I/we ask from a 95-year-old man? He's seen so much, been so many places, and has had experiences worthy of writing about.

As is typical when you are faced with losing someone you love, I'm beginning to think about my own mortality.

This discussion would have been something entirely different three years ago. At that point I had only just begun a relationship with the wonderful man I am lucky enough to call my husband. That relationship was nothing like it is today. There were so many similarities. We were passionate, we were deeply in love, and we shared the same dreams. All of those are the same today. However, what isn't the same is how we loved each other. Sure, we loved each other and everything that the other stood for. Today, that love is greater and deeper than anything I could have imagined. Every day he provides me with more of what I need. He's there every step of the way.

Then, there's the munchkin. She's my reason for moving forward every day. I knew that being a mother would involve unconditional love. What I didn't know was how deeply I would be affected by that. Every decision I make is based on what's the best for my girl. No longer is it important that I get my nails done or color my hair. Now it's about Pops (see another forthcoming post for more information) and chicken fries. And I love it.

I'm mortal. Any morning could be my last. On my thirtieth birthday and in the days leading up to it, I questioned where I was in my life. I'm still questioning. But in the face of losing my grandfather, I find that I know I'm on the right road. I'm building a family and a lifetime's worth of memories. If I died tomorrow, what would be my legacy?

I guess the best I can say is that I couldn't be happier to have Wife, Mother, and Pop provider on my headstone.