I feel like there is a disconnect that exists between the young and the old - a divide like a median in the road. A platform that can’t be crossed by a vehicle, but can be traversed on foot. It just takes a little longer, and there’s a degree of intimacy involved that some may not feel comfortable with. Since I was little I’ve marched toward that median with pride, holding the belief that it represents everything I have experienced and will experience, welcoming me with ancestral hands and tired cashmere sweaters. There isn’t a topic that goes unaddressed with my grandfather, and while our discourse sometimes meanders toward morbidity, it flows in the most habitual way, like folding an old t-shirt. 

Recently I asked how he was feeling - what it’s like to be 84 years old. “I’ve done just about everything there is to do,” he remarked with contentment. That statement transported me to a session I had a couple weeks back with some young children. I felt grateful to have witnessed two extremes in such close proximity to one another. Katie and James wore their innocence like a sheeny yellow raincoat - obvious, endearing and bright. The world was their playground, and hope and possibility engulfed them. The idea of not knowing what their lives will bring totally excites me. And yet, I am as intrigued by the beginning of life as I am by the end…