Chapters of life…

Early in 1965 a new chapter began in my life story.  I was blessed.  I was able to attend my very first day of school with my twin sister.  Yet I was also blessed in ways I could not imagine at such a tender age.  Little did I realise my life story was now becoming entwined with others, with people outside my close family.

A beauty of growing up in that era, in the relative stability of the times and culture, was so many of those early chapters were shared with these kids we were getting to know.  We remained valuable personalities in each other’s stories, even through the turmoils of adolescence all the way to finishing high school together.

Many years and many chapters have unfolded since then.  Our adventures have taken us all over the world, with countless twists and turns.  Little surprise many chapters are not shared any more.  Occasionally we have a delightful touch of connection, but our stories have largely become different books.

One of those children in 1965 was a little girl of Italian descent.  Her name was Mara.  In ways inarticulable by children of that age she, like many others, became a part of the fabric of life.  They were all just always there.  This is the delight of shared stories.  Safety.  Trust.  Laughter.  I remember Mara informing us that Pizza Hut pizzas were nothing like the real pizzas her mum made!  We learned and grew together.

I haven’t been in the same space as Mara since around 1978.  Her story took her to life and love in America.  That story concluded just the other day.

Why then, after so many years, such depth of grief and sadness?  Perhaps we simply don’t realise the profound value of others in our stories?  Those that co-author our own stories.  My life story has taught me to “fix my eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of my faith.”  It’s a good time to quietly reflect on our co-authors of life.  They are indeed part of the fabric of life.  They can be perfecters of life.