I have not written on my blog in some time. Why? I do not know. Perhaps because I have felt I have nothing to say.

But I returned to it today, and, like an old friend I have not seen in years, fell back in love.  Like I never missed a beat. Like I have always been writing; just in my head.

I am still involved in hospice. These days, I am tasked with organizing care for patients and families, instead of being the clinical visit nurse. In some ways, this is harder. I am usually the one who first speaks the unspeakable. Death.

I cause distress, but also relief. They know. They always knew. But no one told them. Not directly. Now they can face it. Head on. Some choose not to. And that is fine as well.  Death is something that we think happens to other people. When we are faced with it, it is cruel and surprising.

I think about death every single day. Not in a morose or sad way. On the contrary, I find it helps me to make better life choices. Not by trying to avoid death by healthy eating and exercising. I know many of those folks who did all that, but died young anyway. No, the choices are about what I am leaving behind in my life's wake. To the people I love. That is our legacy. But most of us rarely think about it.

How will you be remembered by your kids? Your siblings? Your co-worker?  Some say, who cares.  Well, you should. Your life impacts more people than you could ever imagine. Give more thought to those you interact with every day. Think about how their death would impact you. It will give you a better perspective on your own life.

Our daughter is now in college.  She is abroad, far away. But I am happy she is seeking her own life, apart from me. Still, I worry. I worry about her daily. Her impact on my life is and always will be the most powerful force imaginable. But she is her own person and I am my own person and though we are intertwined by blood, I must respect that. And it is hard. But it is not a death, and I am not grieving. It is simply life. And we should celebrate that.

A friend from high school recently lost her young brave son. I never met him, but like others, got to know him through his mother. I cannot imagine the depth of her loss. The excruciating moment she wakes up each morning and remembers she cannot hug him, or speak to him or watch him grow up. And that is why I am not sad I am an empty nester. Because I still am allowed to marvel at my daughter's life each and every day. I can look forward, while my friend can only look back.

Life is a gift we squander often. We hold onto petty things that are meaningless. We let them divide us. Keep us apart from people who we love and hold dear. People who mean the most. I know the
hurt. I know the anger. But as I watch families torn apart from squabbling, I, very often, also see the glimmer of love they hold that is so buried that they cannot feel it anymore. It is scarred over and numb.

Forgiveness is hard, but we must try. At the end of life, I do see people, a lot of people, making attempts to bridge the gap. But too much time has passed, too much scar tissue remains.

So do it now, while you are very much alive.

While you can still look forward.

"The secret of change is to focus all of your energy, not on fighting the old, but on building the new." Socrates