My brother said once to me when speaking about his kids he adores, "Not only I have I given them life, but also disappointments, heartache, illness, and death." It was a very aware statement, and not meant as a curse, but these all come with life. Part and parcel. Spinning off this I thought about my finite time on this planet. My family is close, and we talk a lot. My brother and I talk a couple times a year and email a handful a year, unlike my sister who we talk quite frequently. It is understood how busy he is with work and his two adorable kids who take much of his free time away from him. It is not a matter of love, and if I happen to die tomorrow I will do so knowing he loves me as I do him. But what does come to mind, is I can actually count the number left of his calls before I die. It becomes a very finite small number, whereas my sister’s calls seem infinite.
Let's say 80 more calls providing I don't die tomorrow for the sake this argument. Then what I should really do is make every conversation we have free of petty worries, and normal bitchiness about my life. It will be difficult, yet mindful awareness on my part. Thinking back to the monks I met last June, they never complain about life, and are always inquisitive about you. It is not about them, so now I will work towards making it about my brother and his kids…for my brother.
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