We are often told that age is just a number. That is easier said than done when your daughter will be 33 next month and your grandson (gasp!) will be 12…a hop, skip, and a jump from teenage-dom. How did that happen? LOL
That the years are passing was brought forcefully home this week as we helped the mother-in-law to move grandma into an assisted-living facility. She turned 94 last month and broke her hip so it wasn’t a surprise so much, as a reminder that time ticks on, whether we want it to or not. My sister-in-law who was barely a teen when she was my Maid of Honor at my wedding will be 40 this year.
I remember when I turned 40 and being a published author seemed as out of reach as being chosen by NASA to be a Mars colonist. (secret fantasy!) I can still envision that younger me who thought she was so old that life had passed her by. I had been a daughter, a mother, and now a grandmother. When did I get ‘me time’? A few years after that my mother died at the age of 61. Talk about a shot to the gut! Not only was I now parentless because my father died a few years before that, but at 67 and 61 a long life did not seem written into my genes. I had dreams. Things I wanted to accomplish in this life.
So, no more wishful thinking. No more bucket list. If I want to write a children’s book and an erotic romance novel in the same year, I will. If I want to see how many books I can write in one year, I will go for it. If I want to climb a mountain, I will get in shape so I can. I will always grow older, year after year, but I don’t have to grow old.
Who’s with me??!! Jill, dreamer of dreams and writer of stories