Everyone’s life has a story.
It begins the day we’re born. More often than not, it’s the most joyous occasion to our parents.
Childhood are usually the best years of ones life. Carefree. Dependent. Wanting. Until we’re ready for school. And that’s when the first chapter begins.
School isn’t what it used to be. These days, you see the kids taking on so much assignments that you’d think your 4th grade son is taking a Master’s degree. You can hardly talk to them anymore. Maybe because we’re also too busy chasing our future or providing a roof over everyone’s head. Whatever the circumstances are, it’s not difficult to observe that a dysfunctional family has become a norm rather than an exception to the rule.
It’s because “life’s like that”.
But it isn’t.
Because there are pitstops in every journey of our life. Time to reflect o how we have lived, loved, laughed, cried. Being there for one another, not only during celebrations and victories, but during disappointments and sorrows will always be part of our stories.
Notice how quickly time has passed us by. How our children have quickly grown. How it’s impossible to turn back the hands of time. How many “what if’s” we’ve regretted.
Like autumn’s colors, our days take on a different hue. We wilt. We prepare for the cold of winter. Alone. Dreary.
For many of us, autumn is the second to our final pit stop in life. Nothing is too late. To live. To love. To laugh. To cry. To change. Because as long as we live, no dream is too late to change. No reconciliations too late to amend.
Only we can write the final chapter on how this story ends.
For even sad birds sing…