So, I came across The Last Guard the other day. No, it’s not the latest K-drama or Hollywood movie. It refers to the discovery of multiple fossilized psittacosaur cubs found alongside what appears to be an older sibling. The older sibling was guarding or babysitting the cubs when they were buried by a volcanic debris flow. This group of fossils was discovered by a paleontologist, Dean Lomax.
“The largest fossil does not have the dimensions of a sexually mature adult, so it is not it could have been one of the parents; most likely who has been the older brother of the little babies” The find is exceptionally preserved, and appears in his book “Locked in Time – Animal Behavior Unearthed in 50 Extraordinary Fossils” Source
It stopped me in my tracks and made me reflect. I mean, imagine that a big dino brother is protecting the younger siblings and its final act is frozen in time. It’s heartbreaking, but it got me thinking: why did dinosaurs even exist? Were they here just to live their lives and then become the fossil fuel that now powers our world?
It’s kind of wild to think about it. Now, just a side point: do you know that during the time of dinosaurs, the earth’s atmosphere was thicker due to higher levels of volcanic activity and greenhouse gases? The sky would be hazier, possibly obscuring the clarity of the night sky. So these dinosaurs probably couldn’t see the crystal-clear starlit night we enjoy today. These massive creatures never saw a sky full of stars the way we do, but now millions of years later, their fossils power our rockets, propelling us into that very sky. It’s poetic, isn’t it? That nothing in this world really lost. They were just transformed. Dinosaurs that once roamed the earth are now the force sending us into the universe. It’s all connected, a continuum of life, death, and dreams.
And millions of years later, here we are looking at their fossils and reflecting on their existence. An older sibling protecting the cubs. If this is not love, though instinctual in nature, I don’t know what is. Their story didn’t end with extinction. It lives on in the fuel that powers our world and in moments like this when we pause to think about them.
Have you heard about The Letter to Lee Eung Tae? The Last Guard made me think of that letter too. The Letter to Lee Eung Tae was written 500 years ago by a grieving pregnant Korean Joseon widow to her deceased husband Lee Eung Tae. The Last Guard versus The Letter to Lee Eung Tae. Two moments in history, so different but connected. One is a silent act of love embedded in ash, and the other is a deep grief written onto paper. Both moments are remnants of love carried through time.
I wept when I read the widow’s letter to her beloved husband. Five hundred years didn’t erase the pain and longing in her words.
“You always said to me, “We’ll be together until our hair turns gray, then die together”, so how could you go and leave without me? Whom should I and our child turn to; how should we live? How could you leave us all behind and go on your own?…Each time we lay together, I asked you “Dear, do other people love and cherish each other as we do? Are they like us?” How could you forget my words and abandon me?…I cannot live without you. I want to go to you quickly, so please take me to you. I cannot forget the feelings I had for you in this life, there is no limit to my sorrow. I don’t know if I can go on; where do I put these feelings that I have, while raising a child that misses their father? Please read this letter, then come to me in my dreams…” Source
Definitely stuff of K-drama.
This letter is like The Last Guard; it silently speaks of that protective love. This is love in all its forms, instinctual or deeply human, that transcends time.
And maybe that’s the real point. Nothing is ever really gone. Whether it’s a dinosaur’s final sacrifice or a widow’s grieving words, their legacies find us. They connect past and present, life and death, in this vast web of existence. Even in extinction or loss, there’s continuity and transformation that reached us at this present age.
It makes me wonder, what if millions of years from now, someone looks back at us? Someone finds our digital fossil buried beneath layers of forgotten time. And there they’d be reading our words and confessions, once alive and fragile but burning deeply. Would they feel the same reflection and connection we feel now when we look at fossils or read ancient letters?
In the end, maybe love is what truly matters. And maybe that’s also what it’s all about, leaving traces of ourselves behind. Traces of our existence, our love, our dreams, waiting for someone to find them and feel them all over again.
Handwritten draft of this post.
Olivia's Atelier 