How The Hell Did This Happen?

This picture was taken almost fourteen years ago:



 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Know what's changed since then?

 

1. No way I'm ever fitting into those jeans ever again.

2. No chance any of that hair is coming back again.

3. Or will ever be that brown again.

4. That baby is celebrating her 14th birthday tomorrow.

 

Where did all that damn time go?

 

I remember her first steps, her first word, her first day of school, her first temper tantrum, her first "A," her first everything. Or, nearly everything.

 

Now, it's all a blur of old photos and video clips and Father's Day cards.

 

Sigh.

 

In four short months, I'll be 50. I can't even begin to wrap my mind around that.

 

I don't feel 50. I still feel like I'm in my 20's. Except, more and more, in the mornings when I drag my lazy ass out of bed and go downstairs to start the coffee I have to have before truly starting my day.

 

(If Bonnie were here, she'd interrupt me at this point to ask, "Then why do you act like you're 14 so much of the damn time?")

 

I still think of our house as "the new house," even though we've lived here for nearly five years. Bonnie's van is "the new car," even though it's nearly two years old now.

 

Did I loose the ability to perceive the passage of time at some point? Or have I become oblivious to it all? I'm leaning towards the latter. Things seem to run together so much of the time, and with three kids and only two of us, there seems to be an ever-present rush to get things done before it's too late and we have to turn the lights out for the night.

 

There's never enough time...maybe that's why? Perhaps I've just given in to the inexorable march of time, and I'm now just trying to make it through another day without everything falling apart.

 

That's sounds like as good a reason as any, I guess.