There Was a Last Time You Carried Your Child. You Don't Remember It

There was a last time you carried your child. You put them down one afternoon, probably thinking about something else entirely, and you never picked them up again. There was no moment. Nobody told you. I didn't understand this until I was eighty-one and found my gardening gloves in a cupboard. Thirty years of something I loved, and the ending went right past me without a sound. In this video I talk about the last times nobody marks — the last time your mother tucked you in, the last time you ran, the last time you saw someone and spent it talking about nothing. And then I talk about the other kind: the last times you are choosing right now, quietly, by not doing something. Those are the ones you can still do something about. My last conversation with my sister Margaret was about nothing at all. She was gone three weeks later. I've had fifty-one years to think about what I'd have said if somebody had tapped me on the shoulder. Think of the person you haven't spoken to. Ring them today. Subscribe — a new one every week. Chapters 0:00 There was a last time you carried your child 0:00 The gardening gloves 0:00 The last times nobody marks 0:00 The last time you saw certain people 0:00 My last conversation with Margaret 0:00 The two kinds of last times 0:00 The ones you're choosing right now 0:00 What I actually do about it 0:00 The last time someone says your name Which last time did you think of while you were listening? Tell me below — I read every one. #lifelessons #over60 #family #agingwell #grandparents