Timing is everything in life.  Just as those who came before us, we all have a ticking clock over our head.

Lately, I’ve frequented antique shops scouting out props to use for food photography projects and collaborations.  More than ever I feel a greater connection to the past.  I find it impossible not to think about the lives, conversations, relationships, tragedies, etc. of the previous owners as I touch, repurpose, and use their personal household items.

My most recent excursion brought tears to my eyes when I stumbled across a beautiful wooden cradle sitting silently in the corner. That cradle belonged to somebody else’s Katherine, and the bond between a parent and child is timeless.  What was that baby’s story?  Did she have a long, healthy life, or did she die young from Scarlett fever, influenza, an appendicitis, or a rare disease?

Although many medical advancements have occurred since that cradle was made, it’s hard not to feel stuck in the past when doctors say they believe your child is slowly dying of a disease they cannot diagnosis or treat.  Intellectually, I grasp and appreciate the fast-paced nature of genomic medicine; emotionally, however, I fear my own daughter’s timing may not be on the right side of science.  Then again, children still die from influenza.

None of us can escape death or its timing.

As I closed my eyes and filled my mind with the sound of giggles and the tender moments shared between a mother and her child, I was reminded that hope is the only thing stronger than fear.  Yes, I am afraid, but my hope and faith are much stronger than my fears.