Quiet Endings

There is something haunting about how life’s most significant endings slip by unmarked. We expect it to feel dramatic, definitive, or ceremonial. Instead, it arrives as just another day. Our last conversation felt routine, with those casual promises of “talk to you soon” made without knowing we’re lying.

The cruelty isn’t just in what we lose, but in how we’re denied the chance to pay attention when it matters. We can’t savor what we don’t know we’re losing – we can’t say proper goodbyes to moments that are quietly slipping away. That last deep conversation with a friend before we drifted apart. The last time I held my nephew. Each adds weight because we carry the knowledge of what we didn’t know we should have been holding onto.