Last night I watched the Grammy Awards. In all the years they have been televised I had never watched before. But I like Trevor Noah and I was too lazy to find the remote to change the channel. I decided to stay tuned for a few more minutes, if for no other reason than to hear the music I am so out of touch with.

Out of touch until Joni Mitchell held the audience captive by singing "Both Sides Now." We stopped, held our collective breath, and honored an icon. For those of the "Experienced Generation," we heard Joni's crystalline voice in the late '60s, '70s, and '80s telling our story, speaking our truths, our feelings, our hopes.

Oh! Youth is filled with so much expectation! Filled with the possibilities, power to change the world, to become anything and, of course. the feeling of never-ending time. It was a stark reminder last night, a shock really, that there is the final song for everyone.

It was not the voice of the young Joni, but this now-and-present 80-year-old Joni enshrined on a cushioned throne. As she sang, my life, my history, my past, was flashing, speeding through time and flooding with memories. The changes, the hopes, the dreams reached and those shattered. My friends and family here and gone. She sang, "Something's lost but something's gained in living every day." We have lived many days, my friend. There has been so much lost and left behind - some gratefully and some remembered wistfully. And yes, a whole world of living, loving, and travel gained. For travel was my dream all those years ago, as it is still now.

I am not a crier. Yes, once in a while if a movie is particularly moving I may mist up. But cry? Fairly never. But the tears rolled down my cheeks in an unending stream. Both in honor of Joni Mitchell and in honor of my own well-worn life. I, too, have looked at life from both sides. And if life's illusions are all I can recall, "I really don't know life at all." Thank you, Joni Mitchell.