She’s a customer of mine, just saw her last week, and she’s a member of the writing club I’m in.
She’s much younger than I, and her mother, in turn, was much younger than mine. Was.
Hard not to think of mortality and my mother’s own inevitable end, in two or five or ten years.
How would I mourn when that day came that I lost my first parent?
Would I cry for endless days? Would I nod in resignation at the cycle of life and resume my normal life schedules? Would I look obsessively for signs my mom or dad was watching over me from somewhere beyond? Would I post on social media when it was a year or five or ten?
Not that I really enjoy having these morbid thoughts, who does really? Right now, they are scattered, heedless thoughts…but someday I will have to face them. Much like my acquaintance is now.
Much like my children will have to someday.