The end of summer and a reflection on ageing parents
Parents give us many things and it is only when they are gone do we appreciate what that means. One day you will look up and they will be gone and that is the grief no one prepares you for.
Mid-September brings a gentle light, and it feels chilly first thing in the morning; summer is bowing out silently.
To watch summer fade is to be reminded of the cycle of the seasons and that nature's beauty is fleeting.
I feel a mix of excitement, especially at the start of a new school year.
My kids have long grown, but there is that certain expectancy of newness and new beginnings, like the anticipation of a fresh notebook and new shoes.
At the same time, there's a certain melancholy, the kind that invites reflection as we remember the summer months.
The end of summer mirrors the human condition, and I was reminded of this recently when my parents spent four days with us.
Like the seasons, life is not infinite and watching summer fade is a reminder that life is impermanent.
This seasonal shift is symbolic as I watch my parents age.
Like summer, they were once bright, full of life, and filled with the warmth and vitality of their prime.
They have become slow, prone to falls and stumbles, their steps slow, their hands tremble, their voices soften.
Like summer transitioning into Autumn, their presence is rich and meaningful, but there is fragility.
My parents carry a lifetime of wisdom and memories, and there will be things, moments, times that will be lost once they pass.
The end of summer and the ageing of those I love remind me of the importance of acceptance: life can't and won't go on forever, no matter how hard we pray or hope.
Humans resist change; we want to hold on, to keep summer always in full bloom and like our parents, keep them unchanged.
But by doing so, we misunderstand the rhythm of life, the circle that is life and death.
As hard as it is, we have to respect the cycle to appreciate what we have in that moment, to release what must pass, and to find meaning in transformation.
The end of summer teaches us gratitude for the beauty that surrounds us in summertime, but it is a poignant reminder of what has now passed.
The ageing of parents is the same, but with deeper intimacy and poignancy.
This shift sharpens our awareness, urging us to pay attention.
As summer comes to a close, we enjoy the last fruits of the season.
Similarly, with ageing parents, we listen to their stories, memories, and even traditions so that we may carry them within us as reminders for the days ahead.
After this weekend, I long to pause time, to hold on to what feels too precious to lose.
Just as I cannot stop the evenings from getting shorter, I cannot stop the advancing years of my parents.
What I can do is be more observant, to appreciate the depth of their experiences etched on their faces, to listen and preserve their stories, and to bask in the warmth of their presence.
To be more attentive and to listen closely, to ask questions, to appreciate the ordinary moments that will one day feel extraordinary.
The end of summer reminds me to cherish every last sunny day, and my parents' ageing reminds me to appreciate their wisdom, memories, and eventually their legacy.
As I looked at old photos, I now understand that impermanence is not something to fear, but something to value and honour.
My parents are not simply growing older—they are teaching me how to live, how to let go, and how to carry love forward.
I feel a deep call to be present, to do more to love without hesitation, to make the most of every moment I have with them.
Watching my parents age is like summer fading; both make me a little sad, but they also make me eternally grateful for the light they continue to shine and the warmth that still lingers.
