At the end, it’s just you and your memories 🕊️

I was watching a video today of a 109-year-old World War II veteran. The oldest living veteran in the world. And for some reason, it completely broke me open in the best way.

Not because it was sad.

Because it was beautiful.

Listening to people who have lived that long talk about life has a way of cutting through all the noise. All the pressure. All the comparison. All the nonsense we think matters.

What they kept saying was simple.

Take care of your health.

Walk.

Stretch.

Move your body.

Nothing flashy. Nothing complicated.

And I sat there thinking… I’m doing that. I really am.

I work out. I stretch. I walk. I take care of myself. And not in a trendy way. In a real way. A long-term way.

Another woman I watched was 107. She said almost the same thing. Take care of your body. Keep moving. Protect your health.

And then they talked about something else. Loneliness.

One man talked about losing his wife twenty years ago. Another couple had been married for eighty-five years. Eighty-five. I can’t even imagine loving someone that long and then having to exist without them.

It made me emotional, but not in a fearful way.

It made me grateful.

Because the truth is, no matter how much love you experience, no matter how beautiful your relationships are, the end of life is still incredibly personal. It’s still you. Your mind. Your memories. Your body. Your peace.

And that’s when it hit me.

I’m proud of the life I’ve lived.

I have memories. Real ones. Travel. Growth. Quiet mornings. Loud laughter. Lessons learned the hard way. Joy I created for myself. Pain I survived. Peace I earned.

I love that I document my life. I love that I can look at photos and videos and remember exactly how something felt. I love knowing that when I’m older, I won’t be wondering if I lived. I know I did.

Do I want love?

Absolutely.

I want a partner. I want companionship. I want someone to grow old with. Someone to share comfort with. Someone to sit next to when the world slows down.

But I’m also deeply thankful that I’m comfortable with myself.

That I like my own company.

That I can be alone without feeling empty.

That my happiness isn’t dependent on someone else staying forever.

Because the biggest blessing is not just love.

The biggest blessing is having yourself.

Your health.

Your memories.

Your peace.

When the noise fades and life gets quiet, those are the things that remain.

And today was just a reminder that I’m living in alignment with that truth.