There are days, or rather moments in days when I feel the passing of time and recognize that it has left its mark on me.
I know that I am not old yet, but there are times when the child inside me cries out, and the teenager whines and the young adult just looks perplexed - "When did maturity, respectability, responsibility - when did they come knocking at our door, and why did we let them in?"
It is in those moments, the quiet ones where I acknowledge and accept the passing of time as a natural and beautiful thing that I know I have invited time in, to sit down and have a nice cup of cocoa with me as I contemplate where I have been, what I am doing, and where I am going. Unfortunately, time is occasionally rude and forceful, pushing its way into my life like an overeager cop with a search warrant.
And so, to the perplexed young adult, the whining teen, and the crying child inside me who are horrified by the invasion of time, and refuse to move peacefully along with it, I say:
Remember when you turned on the radio and were confused because you didn't know, understand, or like most of the music, wondering where the good tunes had gone?
Remember when you tried to go shopping for clothes, but couldn't find anything that looked "good", wondering what they had done with all the nice, normal, fashionable* clothes?
Remember when you stopped understanding technology - five years ago?
Remember when you were rearended by a texting teenager and you found yourself shaking your fist at the sky, and grumbling about "Kids Today..." - the universal battle cry of people lamenting the changes in the world from the time of their own youth?
And so for now, the voices inside me that still feel like the high school senior on top of the world have settled down once more, accepting their fate, as middle aged mom moves into the spotlight.
I know that someday she will join the baffled chorus inside as the cue will come for grandma to take the stage. What will I be then, do you suppose? Grouchy? Grumpy? Gloomy? Dare I hope to hold out for glamorous Grandma? I think all the voices inside could be satisfied, if we had that to look forward to as our time goes by.
*I never was fashionable.
AND can I still do this, when I am the glamorous grandma?