a movie without an ending... until the end comes

Life is like the movies. It really is.

One frame, one second: sunlight breaking through wavering tree branches forming this perfectly fragile, glowing mosaic. One scene, one conversation: honest and beautiful, showcasing all that is good. And more and more until, with time, these moments begin to coalesce, forming those millisecond snippets of a life that flash before your eyes as you daydream away one Sunday afternoon.

The only difference is that in a movie when the credits roll there has been an ending. Every loose end, every lesson-to-be-learnt, every argument, every hurt, every relationship, has been wrapped up, tied up, and you leave the theatre with the satisfaction that is in Resolution and Retrospection.

Whilst life? Complete and final resolution and retrospection, I am starting to realise, won't come until I'm 80 years old, sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of tea reflecting on a life that has come and gone. If finality is what keeps life from being messy I do believe I am barking up the wrong tree.

Fin.

(For now.)