She lay her hand on my pregnant belly and I hated myself for thinking what if that’s the last time. I looked at her hand, shaking and covered in wrinkles and I wondered if my son would ever see her smile. I can’t help wondering how little time they have left. I can’t help myself from feeling like the world is about to cheat me. As if them dying is somehow about me. It isn’t. It simply is what it is.
Oh to be young and naive
When we’re young, we wish we could be older. Drink, vote, make our own choices. We go to school and we wish we could be done with that. We start university and we can’t wait for our first job. We start our first job and we can’t wait for our first salary. That salary comes and we can’t wait to get promoted, earn more, succeed. We get the promotion, we get married, we have children. We grow older.
We forget, that the older we get, the older those around us become. Soon, before we have even thought to notice, the people we love, who have been busy raising us, are old and fragile. We’ve wished away our lives and in doing so we’ve wished away theirs too.
No amount of wishful thinking can turn back time. Suddenly heads are covered in grey. Beautiful and grey. Wisdom is told in stories that we won’t be hearing forever. Time changes us. It changes our situations, our experiences, our expectations. Time takes away the people that we love. Whether we notice them growing older and frailer or not.
but by then, so much time has passed
Suddenly, one day, we wake up and the lap we used to sit on is too frail and fragile. Now a gentle kiss on the cheek causes a flinch from pain. And we say I love you more and more as if hearing I love you too can somehow be banked away for a rainy day. A day when all we have is memories. Of a time when we were loved more than anything. By people who had to grow old. Because that’s just how the world works… before we know it, they are old, and then, they are gone.
All we have is today.
Youth is wasted on the young…