Parties end. So do date nights and play dates, movie trilogies, TV series and books.
Vacations end, too. As do road trips, spring breaks and long weekends.
Coffee breaks also end, along with birthdays, happy hours, two-for-one sales, sunny afternoons and Super Bowls.
Checkout lines and Mondays always end, even when it seems they never will.
Seasons end, often in rhythm with the end of gardening, school, March Madness, holidays and national election cycles.
Sports-team dynasties end, too. They always do. Ditto for political dynasties, empires and conventional wisdom.
Childhood ends, of course. It yields to young adulthood and then middle age. Then they end too.
And there are the more difficult endings: Of jobs. Careers. Friendships. Romances. Marriages.
Of expectations. Hope. Luck.
And good health. It ends for all. Eventually.
Yes, endings are universal. Imagine a rope stretched tight in a game of tug-of-war. Today, I’m that rope, pulled from one side by what soon will end and from the other by what’s next – and feeling stuck in the murky muddle called now.
The future always wins.
A beginning.
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