Love changes the way we move through the world. – N. Anderson

I recently lost my mother-in-law. She was 94 years old.

When someone lives that long, people offer their condolences and add “She lived a good, long life.” I think she did.

I had the privilege of being with her when she passed, moving on to wherever it is we go next. I’m certain it’s a really good somewhere. Otherwise, what would be the point of all of this?

Over the last two and a half years, my husband has lost both of his parents, 92 and 94. It’s been tough. They were parents to me, too, and it was a privilege to know them. Watching them move through the different stages of aging taught me so much. And as I said goodbye to my mother-in-law, I was reminded once again of the richness and brevity of life.

As children, the days can feel like they will never end. Then somewhere along the way, time begins to move at the speed of light.

I’m in the speed-of-light season.

About a week before my mother-in-law passed away, I sensed that her time was close. I knew in my gut, and I began wrestling with all the emotions that come when someone we love is nearing the end of life.

Did I do enough for her?

Was I a good daughter-in-law?

Did she know she was loved?

Did she feel that her life had meaning?

All of those things went through my mind, but the one that hit me hardest was: “Did she know she was loved?”

I think we all hope we are loved. In fact, I believe that is what gives life its deepest significance. We experience its power to heal and the devastation we feel when love is lost.

During the last few days of my mother-in-law’s life, my husband and I told her repeatedly, “We love you.”

A couple of times she managed to whisper, “I love you too.”

Her passing reminded me of what really matters.

Loving one another and being loved.

Love changes the way you move through the world. It connects you more deeply to yourself and to others.

I was also reminded that breath is a gift. Mobility is a gift. Brain function is a gift. The ability to speak, move, to remember, to respond–all of it is a gift.

And when those things begin to fall away, if what remains is love, then maybe that is enough.

Maybe that is more than enough.

So, as I process this loss, I hope I do not forget the power of loving and being loved. I hope I remember how love helps us embrace and feel the fullness of life– its joy, its pain, and the relationships that are beautiful, lasting and sometimes imperfect.

Because that is life. That is what is means to be human. And love is the divine gift that makes us fully human.

Here’s to leading with love,

Nicki