The End of Life and the Beginning of a New Year
An Old Lady’s Deep Thoughts #12
Hey, 2025, can you slow down a bit? I need to catch my breath.
Last night, while waiting for the clock to strike midnight, I stumbled upon a piece of information quite by accident: a friend of mine had passed away. I hadn’t seen this friend in over 20 years, but he was a very important part of my life at one time. Come to find out, he’d passed away four years ago. I felt like I’d been kicked in the stomach. This guy was my partner in many creative efforts. We were the theater team at a local arts camp for middle school students and had collaborated on several plays I had written. He was such a kind, peaceful man, a music maker and arts educator.
Suddenly, I decided to do a little research while waiting for the new year to officially begin.
It turns out that the principal of the elementary school in Maine where I taught 5th grade for several decades had also passed away two years ago. He was 75 at the time. I’ll be 74 in a few days. This man had been a wonderful boss. When I was working on my Master’s in Educational Leadership, he took over my classroom every Thursday afternoon so that I could drive to Bangor to attend a four-hour class. Always kind, he made my years as a teacher easier. I was lucky to work with him.
I was on a roll, so I continued my search…
Next, I stumbled across the recent death of the wife of a good friend and colleague. Roger was the art teacher at our local high school and a gifted pianist. He and I had also collaborated on numerous creative projects. Both of my kids had him as their art teacher and adored him. His wife was such a sweetheart. They were the perfect couple.
As 2025 was ushered in to the sound of neighborhood fireworks, I lay in bed feeling a strong sense of my own mortality.
What was going on? It felt like a conspiracy. How could this be happening? I struggled momentarily to take it all in. A slow realization began to spread through my body. I’ve entered that phase of my life where my peers are going to start dying one after another. I will follow them down that path soon. I get it, but it’s still so strange. I don’t resent it, but I am kind of shocked at how quickly time has passed. It makes me wonder why I spent any time fussing over things I had no control over. I guess that’s what humans do. We worry about things and try to outsmart life.
We struggle to stay alive even though we know one day we’re going to die.
The whole late-night experience was one of those “aha” moments that come and go in a person’s life. I felt sad that my friends were gone but also more aware of my own existence. I wanted to hug each one of these people who had made my life more enjoyable and worthwhile.
So, I sent a cosmic farewell to Martin, Paul, and Sue.
I also sent condolences to Roger. We’re all in this together, whether we realize it or not. The human experience is a shared experience. Life is often hard to figure out while we’re in the throes of living, but once in a while, we get a reality check. It’s sort of amazing but sad, exhausting yet exhilarating, as we make the same journey from birth to death. We’re all more alike than different.
Ain’t life strange though?
Teresa is an author and professional myth buster. You can find her books on Amazon.
