Ten years ago, my nephew married his high school sweetheart. Their reception still holds the top spot on my (absurdly long) list of weddings I’ve attended. All ages of family and friends danced, laughed, took turns in the photo booth – it was a blast! But there was a moment, a slow-motion, surreal moment when I saw where I fit into the picture – not the family photo after the wedding – the BIG picture.

Mom and Dad won the “who’s been married the longest” game. Fifty-five years of marriage kept them on the dance floor long after all the other couples took their seats. Winded and shaky, Dad leaned on the dinner table. “They’ve got it wrong,” he announced between breaths. “The couple married the longest . . . they should (gulp of water) they should sit down first!” He had a point. Neither Dad nor Mom left their seats the rest of the evening; they were worn out. Ben and Trish’s friends never sat down; they would have danced all night, if the venue allowed.

While the happy pair shared a slice of cake, I caught a glimpse of something unforgettable. This young couple, standing next to a table overflowing with gifts, was poised to start something. So many hopes, plans, and dreams for the future! Every guest gladly purchased items from their registry, lovely gifts meant to fill Ben and Trish’s shelves, cupboards, and drawers — which is what people need at the beginning of things.

Turning away from the presents, I saw Mom and Dad; I really saw them. A couple in their 80s, with no reason to acquire new kitchen gadgets, bath towels, or power tools. Delighted to share this moment in their grandson’s life, they, themselves, were giving and throwing things away, attending funerals of long-time friends, and paying for someone else to mow the lawn — which is what people do at the end of things.

To my right – a young man and woman with most of their lives ahead of them; to my left – a senior couple with most of their lives behind them. There I stood in between two seasons of life; still intrigued by pretty items in home decor catalogs (um, I mean websites), yet mindful of what already fills my shelves, cupboards, and drawers (and garage, and closets). Grateful for dreams come true, yet aware of unfulfilled hopes. Tickled pink to launch a couple into life together, and at the same time, sobered to witness my parents release their life by degrees.

I know the young experience loss; it’s true that aging offers its own versions of beauty and joy. But at this particular moment, I felt the reality of beginnings and endings, and understood, even if just for a moment, what it means to be in the middle of things.