Hello there, lovely ones,

I am laying in the spare bedroom of my parents' home, typing this to you.

Walking on the wooden floors, hearing them creak.

The scent of the house is both distinct and familiar in a way that lives somewhere deeper than memory.

Old and new, all wrapped up into one…

Our daughter came on this trip. It is beautiful to watch the innocence of a child, beyond elated to be with her nana and papa. She understands that my mom has dementia. Whatever that means to her. She asked my dad tonight if he misses the way nana used to be.

My dad's voice cracked.

He said, Yes, honey. Very, very much.

I'm not sure if it's my age, or this stage of life for my parents, but everything feels that much more precious and alive in the same breath.

It is easy for us all to fall asleep at times. To take this life and our loved ones for granted.

Believing we will have tomorrow to say the things our heart longs to say. Innocently assuming tomorrow is a guarantee.

Life can change in an instant.

What is certain is this moment, this day, this experience will never happen again.

I suppose, that is the divine intention of life's impermanence — to wake us up to the miracle. The invisible, tangible treasures.

The gift of friendship, fellowship, family, love, experience, growth, generations.

Each of us navigating life's trials and tribulations, finding our way.

We all long to come home — recognizing we never really left in the first place.

Blessings to you and your loved ones during these precious days of life.

With love from my hometown,
Sage 🪷

P.S. If you are reading this and your parents are still alive — reach out. Say hello. Say thank you. Let them know you're thinking of them.