“Life is good if you don’t weaken,” my Mother used to say. I think about her every day…and wonder. How did she do it? She had five children to raise. At what age does a parent consciously think about the fact that, given life follows it’s natural order, they will no longer be needed? And then one day no longer exist…that their child will outlive them and become an orphan.

I don’t remember thinking about that when I was a young mother myself. In fact, I never thought about it until after I had lost my parents. I became an orphan at 60. I was one of the lucky ones, although I wish I’d had my parents longer. And appreciated them more. Some time during the last decade or so it slowly began to dawn on me…oh. My son will lose his parents and be alone in the world. He has never married, although he has had some long term partners. He’s single now. He hasn’t had children. He himself is an only child. He’s a loner, especially the past couple of years that he has been sober. That only works if you withdraw from the drinking friends, stop hanging at the bar, attending the yearly summer camping trips that all revolve around the beer.

He’s middle aged now. His body is slowing down, arthritis is affecting his mobility. I worry about how he will manage on his own. There is no obvious support system for him in his later years. I worry about my younger nieces and nephews. My siblings are all in their 60’s now. My son gets along with his younger cousins, loves them, but they are scattered by decades and distance.

Tonight as I am writing this the wildfire smoke is oppressive here in Michigan. I am sad. Beautiful wild Ontario is on fire, where I spent so much of my childhood and teenage years exploring. My son has never been. We had dramatically different childhoods. Mine seemed to stretch out forever; it sustains me still. His had smaller borders and was so much lonelier. I swam in the crystal clear water of Georgian Bay, with long black snakes and schools of curious fish and the occasional black bear. We flew to California to watch TinkerBell fly from the Disneyland castle at sunset. He flew to Florida and Disney World. Both fun, certainly…I’m just not sure his childhood was as magical.

Every generation grows to realize their world was smaller and simpler. Mine had majestic old theaters gutted of their seats, where we sat on the floor and watched the best musicians of our generation for our five dollar cover charge…Joe Cocker sang about a Girl from the North Country.