Yesterday evening, after we’d sat down to dinner, I asked my son Aaron, “What would you like to talk about?” He replied, “The meaning of life.”
I thought for a moment (because that topic deserves careful consideration) and quoted something my late mother would often say:
Life is what you make it.
When that got no response from Aaron, I tried again, with something closer at hand: “Maybe Michael’s mashed potatoes explain the meaning of life.”
That photo of my boyfriend Michael’s mashed potatoes (taken when the meal was over) means I was too busy eating them — and thinking about the meaning of life — to capture those delicious potatoes on my dinner plate.
What do you think? If asked about the meaning of life over dinner (or anywhere else) by a 17-year old, how might you respond? Would your opening gambit include something you heard growing up, something close at hand, or something else?
Might any of my other recent photos provide useful talking points about the meaning of life?
Allow me to explain the meaning of the life shown in those last four photos. On my first day back at work, yesterday, a co-worker I like very much showed me pictures of the recent 16th birthday party of her sister’s cat, Simba, who was diagnosed with a fatal disease four years ago. To me, Simba looks quite healthy and happy, partaking of some ice cream birthday cake.
That reminds me! Last night, Michael finished his own birthday ice cream cake, pictured in its entirety here:
If you were writing a blog post about the meaning of life, what music would you include?
I have to choose something meaningful from Monty Pythons’s The Meaning of Life.
Meaningful thanks to my late mother, my son Aaron, my boyfriend Michael, Monty Python, Michael’s mashed potatoes, my co-workers, Simba, survivors everywhere, creatures who enjoy ice cream birthday cakes, and every other person, animal, place, and thing that helped me make meaning in today’s post. Special thanks to you — of course! — for any meaning you are making in your life, here and now.