Maybe it’s because we’re just a year away from an empty
nest; or because we’re closer to 60 than 50; or because a dear friend is dying.
Maybe it’s all these reasons and more that the days are feeling especially
precarious and precious.
We've quit squabbling over who clears the table and who does
the dishes. It doesn’t matter if the tilapia was cheaper elsewhere, or if we
forgot to take out the recycling.
What matters is making the most out of the
time we have, alone and together. It’s about savoring the big picture instead of losing
ourselves in the details; maximizing meaning and joy, and letting go of the
stuff that leads nowhere.
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