Today I have been forced by events to think about births. And miracles.
I am surrounded by friends celebrating imminent or new grandmother-ship. For most this has been as uneventful as such a wonderful event can be. Occasionally though, something goes awry.
Currently I am praying for a miracle for a two day old baby and her family. Miracles do happen and modern medical science is often their arena. So I am praying for Evie – please join me.
I am also thinking about endings, with a cremation of a family member. Endings are so difficult. No matter how many words are spoken, there are always more to be added, one more question to ask. Those left behind never seem to have completed the relationship with the one leaving. I only hope that for the one who has gone, there are no similar regrets.
And so that brings me to middles. This week has been a harsh reminder that the middles of our lives, the great expanse between birth and death, need constant attention. Once more I pledge to say the things I need to say and to mean them whole-heartedly; to take the time to look inside and be the best I can be; to look outside and give all that I have to give where it matters most, and most of all to make hope my constant companion.