I had the pleasure of venturing to a local sangria hangout last weekend and sharing good conversation (and many many glasses of sangria) with friends. The discussion wandered to death, growing old, and the impending responsibility we will all face of caring for our parents. As we all talked on how we had seen family members fade away from reality as they grew old, we all wondered aloud if we would share the same fate. Some shared stories of how they would want to go, if the decision were up to them. Others told of larger than life ways to go out in a blaze of glory so that they will always be young and never a burden on anyone around them. The stories always seemed to get wackier and more outlandish as the night went on. As the jokes made their way around the table, you could almost sense, that beneath the jokes was this fear-fear of getting older, fear of it all ending, fear that this wonderful life and moments like the one we were having would be gone all too soon.
I think we all appreciated each other a little bit more that night.
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