But then I noticed that my feeling had stopped short. I was luxuriating in the intense pleasure of love, light, and energy. Here I was, snuffled in our bliss, as we were dying. I saw the wrinkles of age forming around her beautiful lips. Slowly her face transmogrified into an old, haggard woman, gumming the withered appendage of my moldy destined s

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But getting older is hard. It is a gift, yes, but it is also heavy. Just as the doors of possibility become fewer and farther between, the burden of grief gets bigger. As the years pass, our losses in life accumulate, threatening to weigh us down. It takes active effort—breaths, walks, conversations with friends, rest—to slow down and remember tha

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