The gift of mature love

At some point, we realise that our demise is closer to us than our birth.

While we spend the time of our lives before this moment thinking forever, endless, eternal, a beautiul naive state of existence that is wrapped in the hubris of youth, after this moment we sober to the inevitable endpoint.

I met my love in my 58th year, after more than a decade of singleness and celibacy. At the beginning of our relationship, I was gripped with fear that my love would be taken from me early, in death. 

It was a very conflicting way to live. So in love, so in fear.

I gave myself a stern talking to. To love each day. To love each day. To do stuff that matters. To adventure and play. 

When we had to confront open-heart surgery for a mitral valve issue, I remained in the same state of mind. One moment, one day at a time. 

I was reflecting today that the power of mature love is that it is wrapped in a respect for death and end of life. 

Love in our youth, before we cross that threshold of recognition that our days are numbered, has much less consequence.

And this is one of the most majestic elements of death. To find the courage to truly live, now.

Tony and I made a commitment to each other to not spend our days living as the machine. To travel, explore, learn, play together. To cherish this day, as if it were our last.

That is the gift of mature love.

Published June 22nd 2026. Photo taken June 22nd 2026