Why does the ride have to end.

A few weeks ago we took the grandkids to the Columbus zoo where they had a carousel.  It was an old one, over a hundred years old.  And I saw the young faces light up and smile and laugh as they whizzed by lap after lap. But then time was up and the engine slowed, the ride came to a stop and it was time to exit. And I am sure that they all wished that the ride lasted just a bit longer.

And for me, being a grandfather, I know that I am playing on the back 9.  That the 18th hole is getting closer and closer.  And at times I think about what I might miss. When will we put men on Mars, and more importantly will I be around to see it?  Computers have changed amazingly in 30 years, what will they be like in the next 30.  What new unexplored ideas and horizons will be explored?  And waxing philosophically, what sort of legacy will I leave behind?

It feels like life is like some sort of relay race.  Where a baton is passed to us.  And we hold it and hopefully don't drop it, or stumble during the race.  But rather pick up steam, gain momentum and pass it on the next leg of the race.  Where hopefully they do the same.  So you see to it that your leg of the race was a strong leg, not a weak one.

So I will be sad to see my leg of the race end.  But I am hopeful that when my race has ended that I will be able to see that baton passed on down and on down - maybe never seeing the finish line, but rather each doing their part to be sure that the baton never stumbles, never falls as they push further and further to new horizons - a never ending ride.