Celebration of Life

I picked up two cards today—one for a celebration, one for a loss. Two events on the same day. One in the morning, the other in the late afternoon.

The cashier who rang me up was an older gentleman, the kind who looks well past retirement but chooses to work a few hours a day. Maybe he wanted to keep contributing to the community, or maybe he simply enjoyed being around people.  He greeted me with a bright, enthusiastic voice, “How are you doing tonight?” a big smile waiting for my answer.

He scanned the first card and lit up.

“Oh yea, a baby boy is here!” he said, grinning.

I smiled back. “Yes, my friend just had her fourth boy.”

But then he picked up the second card.

He paused. Just for a moment. He didn’t say anything this time. Instead, he told me my total, thanked me for coming in, and gently handed both cards back to me.

As I walked away, I found myself wondering what had passed through his mind in that quiet second when he read the cover of the second card: “My deepest sympathy.”

Two cards. Two stories. One beginning, one ending. And a stranger standing between them, witnessing the shape of a life in the simplest, most human way.

I can’t help but think about what we mean when we say celebration of life. One on each side of the journey. One life arriving with nothing yet filled with hope, dreams, and a future waiting to unfold. The other leaving with everything left behind, carrying a lifetime of love, accomplishments, and legacy.

Walking out of the shop with those two cards in my hand, I suddenly felt the weight of life and wonder how it circles through us. I thought of my own family, my own journey, the chapters I have already filled, and the ones that are still waiting to be written in.

Maybe what we’re celebrating is the same thing on both ends: the life that’s just beginning and the life we’re honoring in its final chapter. Both deserving to be held, remembered, and cherished.

And in between those two ends is the imperfect, yet beautiful journey we spend learning, loving, stumbling, growing, and becoming who we are meant to be.

The part does not get to be printed on a card, but fills the years in between.