End Times

When we come to the end, having loved and being loved makes all of the difference.

I found this song yesterday and played it for Maribel on our walk around our neighborhood with the pups last night. As we turned the corner toward our street, a neighbor stopped in her car and greeted us. 

She looked like she had been crying. She had just come back from visiting ailing parents. Her dad decided he needed hospice care. We stood by the car and the three of us looked into each other’s eyes and held the sadness and love, not much spoken.

The end times are always with us and make each moment more delicious and juicy. The opportunity to love and be loved makes the tumbling into space seem less tragic–more like adventure. 

We walk each other home. Grateful.

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