Every beginning has an ending, and every end has a beginning. And both involve change — something that is hard for most of us.

Facing beginnings, though sometimes difficult, at least offers a sense of expectancy and freshness.

We spend a lifetime daring to start things — relationships, jobs, moving to a new location, even finding new interests.

We start our life of learning on that first day of school.

Experience, both our own and others, brings a certain order.

We know, for instance, starting a new relationship will take us through the quickened pulse, the spending of time, the dancing in the dark.

We know there will be hours in face-to-face easy chairs, the rose-tinted glasses, coloring and blending of life from that time on.

We have many books that tell us how to stay on that lovely path, and it is the same as facing a new job or even a new lifestyle.

Facing new beginnings takes courage, but we take comfort in knowing there are rules.

Facing ends, however, usually comes unannounced, and all the perks of beginnings disappear. There are no rules.

We look for the rules for ending, but the word “end” means final, last. In our human experience, this is the most challenging concept to grasp.

As long as I can recall, I have pondered the realization we live our lives as if there are no ends at all.

Often we are shocked by ends.

We never prepare for them, at least not emotionally, and I believe therein lies the biggest human dilemma.

Everything ends. Our brains know this, yet we live our lives trying to beat it.

How have we managed to fool ourselves completely?

The poets, the philosophers, the muses all contemplate ends on a spiritual level. Men and women of the cloth claim faith as the only way of dealing with it. But even then, are we internalizing the vastness we claim we believe?

I know of the powers of prayer and faith, and yet, I still, when it comes right down to it, have trouble with ends.

If I have to draw a picture of “ends,” I would draw a cliff. Beyond the cliff would be dark. That’s it.

The end is any step beyond the edge of the cliff, and no one knows if it is soft or has a bottom, is silent, will receive people, animals, what?

We know nothing of this final ending.

At the moment we face knowing about end do we choose to stay? If so, is that because of the mystery of beyond the cliff?

Before the end of our life, we face many ends. Some are painful and should help us to the point where we can talk about the loss and ends of things. But do they? No.

Aging is usually a gradual wind down. We all know the signs of aging, both in us and in those around us.

Different parts of our bodies begin to quit doing their job, and modern medicine steps in and patches us up to give us more time.

While all of this sounds nice and healthy, a significant piece is missing.

Dying is a taboo subject. Few want to, or will, talk about death. I believe we make a big mistake not talking about it.

Will we be aware at the end?

Will there be pain?

Do we have our wishes in writing as to resuscitation and burial?

The list is personal, intimate and private, and your family should have a copy.

I’ve told you about losing my best friend, Judy. She was a member of our Woohoo group.

Every Friday, the eight of us met for lunch at a little restaurant in downtown Winchester. We talked and talked about anything and everything, and we did so for many years.

Then Judy got breast cancer. Surgery bought her more time. It gave us more time to study to know what to expect as she progressed. At Judy’s request, we studied as a group the progression of the enemy cancer that was taking our beloved friend.

We listened without adding our concerns, and whenever she asked something of us, we were right there.

But the main and best thing we did for Judy and the eight of us was often openly talking about dying, the end of life on this Earth for her and her sweet family.

We also talked a lot about how we would handle her end.

As I wind this column down, I dearly hope all my readers have many happy and endearing beginnings.

As for ends, talk about them. Share your ends with others and your feelings of ends to come.

Beginnings all have an ending, and endings have a beginning. Let’s take the end of life off the taboo list and talk about it.

The view from the mountain is wondrous.

Jean Brody is a passionate animal lover and mother. She previously lived in Winchester, but now resides in Littleton, Colorado. Her column has appeared in the Sun for more than 25 years.