In the past two weeks, famous writers Tom Wolfe and Philip Roth both died (may they rest in peace). It’s no wonder I’m thinking about their contemporary, Gay Talese, the famed New Journalism mastermind I met while Traveling at the Speed of Bike. As far as I can tell from the last note I received from him, he sounds good and seems healthy so I think this series of deaths won’t come in threes.
Yet an end (not to life but to a phase of life), as this sign under the 59th Street Bridge not far from Gay Talese’s home serves to remind, is near for me, at least as a parent (I’ll always be a mom, but 23 years of daily parenting is winding down). I have just a little while left before I leave my youngest one at college, and then I am crossing the bridge to my future. The temptation is to say to life, “Slow down, you move too fast,” like the song about that bridge, but that’s not how life works, is it? Even at the speed of bike, there’s forward movement. There’s momentum. There’s changing scenery and people and experiences. New hopes. New dreams. New possibilities.
There are bridges to cross, and we cross them. Every end has a new beginning.