There is a meaningful numerical relationship between the ages of my father (78), my husband (38), and my son (4). The sum of their ages is 120 and mathematically, this number is significant because the sum of its factors equals 360 – a perfect circle.
These numbers embrace a wide vastness where the differences between an elderly man, a man in his prime and a young boy can be charted in a circle. We are born, we live and we die – such is the cycle of life and the order of things.
Despite this, each passing day presents an emotional paradox. While our son improves his speech, his motor skills, and his ability to reason – my father’s ability to maneuver small tasks is diminished. Regardless, his struggle to navigate life and undo the restraints nature imposes are heroic.
Alongside them my husband has accepted the mantle he was given. He is the mast by which they both fasten their sails. They rely in his direction.
This transition quietly unfolds and I am struck with the simplicity and complexity of life. Nature’s cycle is candid and inevitable. I can’t reverse or prevent it.
I just trust it.
January 19, 2010