Isn't it funny or rather, odd, to sit back and think, "I guess I am getting older."
I know, twenty-five doesn't seem like an age to being worrying about aging. But it's not so much the aging I fear it's all the things that affect the people around you as you get older. To me the strangest thing is thinking that my parents are getting older, when you're little you never really think that will be your parents or that the responsibility of their care will one day be yours. You know, sub-consciously that the time will come, but it's hard to really grasp it. I cannot think about it, and frankly I don't think my parents want to either, which for the time being is fine with me.
But there are days like today when I am snuggled in close to Riah and our noses touch and she whispers "will I always be your baby mom?" "Yes," I answer, "always." To me the hardest thing to grasp is that there will come a day that I will no longer be here for she and Thaddaeus, and I pray that I am silver and wrinkled like a prune and have enjoyed all the things that life has given me. So today I began writing down the things that matter most to me right now, what I need to focus on and what I could use less of so that I can make sure that twenty years from now I do not regret a loss of time, that I will make my time well spent, with those that mean the most. Since both of my children were in the womb I have written to them in journals, sometimes weekly, sometimes monthly but my new goal is to make it my Wednesday night thing, no matter what. Time, it's one of the things I have a love/hate relationship with.
