Last week, Dad reflected a bit on recent events in his life: a funeral, a fiftieth anniversary, my mom’s seventieth birthday. And his reflections brought him around to the idea of finishing well. And I’ve been thinking about that.

I am in the middle of many things in my life. I am in the middle of my marriage, of raising my children, of living my life. At least, I think I am. But since Dad’s post last week, I’ve been looking at it all a little differently.

What if this was the end? If I was at or near the end of these things I feel I am in the midst of, would I be doing it differently?

And my answer is … ummm, maybe?

I don’t really know how to live that way, I guess. Because that is not my reality. If it was, if I had a child with a terminal disease, or if my own life was at risk, then yes. I am sure I would be doing things differently. My routine, my priorities, my focus would be refined and centred. I would let many things slide in order to treasure what I was about to lose.

But this is not my situation. Instead, I am confronted daily with things that require my attention. My husband and children and responsibilities and all the boring stuff that is just a part of keeping it all going. And many, many joyful moments along the way. This is my situation. And so the challenge, here in the middle of it all, is to live a good story before the end. To make it all great here in the middle, before the finishing up time. To see, along the way, the treasures life brings and to open them as they come. And to enjoy them and use them and make memories with them. And still get the laundry done.

Maybe living well is the first step in finishing well.

I don’t know. Like always, I’ve probably over thunk it.