“What dies does not vanish. It is here in the world, transformed, dissolved, as parts of the world, and of you.“ Meditations of Marcus Aurelius, Book 8, Verse 18 (Hays translation).

I have been meaning to write this for a couple weeks. About one week ago was my birthday. The week before that was my mother’s birthday, the first since her passing in September. I thought about the meaning of that for a while. I am also always fairly pensive around my birthday. Perhaps that is not too unusual as people tend to take stock of where they are around milestones. Birthdays, Anniversaries, New Year’s Day.

What does it mean?

It is one thing to lose a grandparent. Fortunately, I did not lose a grandparent until I was 17. I lost my next one at 28. 40 when I lost my third grandparent. Amazingly, 54 when I lost my last grandparent. Death has been kind to my family.

A ripe old age has seemed a foregone conclusion…not even taking into account all the gyrations I go through to advance my own health and longevity. None of my grandparents were particularly fastidious when it came to lifestyle or diet. In fact, my last grandparent to die smoked for probably 60 or 70 years. I think she only quit smoking because she got tired of it.

Genetics seemed to be in my favor.

Till something shook that complacency.

Part of dealing with the loss of a parent is the recognition that you are never going to speak or see that person again. You miss their presence. Their embrace. The echo of their voice in your ear. I knew that I could not call her and wish her a happy birthday. And that she would not be calling me. Not today. Not tomorrow. Not the day after.

Finality. It is often hard to accept. A test. A game. A life. It happens. There is no calling time out. Time is inexorable. You move on.

I realized quite quickly, however, that the guardrails had been removed. The game changed. I am the next man up. A recognition that does not occur with the passing of anyone other than a parent.

I know that lives and their relative length have no apparent order. It is not definite that a mother dies before a child, but once it occurs, it is etched in stone.

“Give yourself the gift of the present moment” Meditations 8:44.

Life is finite. An immutable fact. I exist in this time. I am time.

I have this second. This minute. I am only assured of that. Nothing more. I should live it fully.

I have enjoyed past moments, but they are gone. Now, I have this one. I will savor and enjoy it.

“I cannot escape death but at least I can escape fear of it.” Epictetus (from Daily Stoic Today, February 17, 2022).

I will live it… I am the next man up.