“Not the least hard thing to bear when they go from us, these quiet friends, is that they carry away with them so many years of our own lives.” (John Galsworthy)
Sensibly quoted by my good friend The Only Cin.
In the last 4 weeks I have been told of 5 deaths of people I knew. The one with the shortest connection was over 10 years. The longest was a cousin who was just two years older than I was, I knew her from my earliest days.
I’m reeling mentally. The deaths of those over 90 were easier to accept, they had had long fruitful lives, and their bodies just wore out. The others, too soon gone. There was life still to live.
For me it has been a time of reflection, layers of my past, areas that now have been closed. Growing older is a gradual removal of the layers of people and experiences, until there is nothing left. The reminder of this has been rather sobering.
One’s youth is spent collecting; knowledge, friends, family, experiences, memories.
In one’s middle years the experiences and knowledge are re-inforced. You refine the friendships to the foundations of your life. You enjoy the growing family. These are the years of fruitfulness, earned. The memories are laughed over treasured.
The older years, are they just to be a gathering momentum of losing people? Losing that zest for life.
I think these deaths have been part of reminding me, I still have life to live, friends and family to love and enjoy, and more memories to create and enjoy remembering.