A Small Death

The end of summer is a small death.  As it draws near, inevitable regrets hover about me.    Did I waste my time?  Why didn't I do more, travel more?  I should have finished that project.  I should have gone to the beach again.  I thought I had more time.  I can still fit in one more fling.  I want to be prepared for the end.  I want to say my goodbyes.

As these thoughts gathered in my brain this morning, I wondered.  If I feel this way at the end of summer, is it a taste of how I will feel at the end of life?  I reminded myself that my life isn't over.  It's just going to change.  The end of summer brings new things to anticipate, new adventures.  Perhaps that, too, is true for death.