Lately, I’ve been feeling like time goes so quickly. And what feels like a day is really a year, or a month becomes two years.
When we had my dad’s retirement party, that was the first real realization of like, holy shit, this is happening! We’re at THIS point. Same with when he went on Medicare. And then again when I attended my grandpa and grandma’s 90th birthdays, respectively.
It was that feeling of, holy cow, how did we get here and…what happens now?
I see my parents and grandparents as these infallible people who inevitably get older but aren’t touched by the realities of it.
Naive? You bet. But, since I’ve not had to deal with a lot of family deaths (knock on wood) up to this point in my life, that’s my view.
Until I got a text from my mom saying to call her, and then hearing from her that my grandma, the one who turned 90 in March, had a mini stroke last week. She was in the hospital and things seemed positive, but it was jarring.
And sitting at work, trying to focus on a recap deck was suddenly the last thing on my mind.
And immediately, I also felt, I’m not ready for this. Not ready to handle the inevitability of them getting older, slowing down, showing their age. I should call them more, I should call them back! I should make more of an effort to see them when I go back to Wisconsin. Those thoughts run through my head and overwhelm me, and sadden me at the same time.
Because in the end, there is only so much time. Time to be made for everything and time that I have with them.
Right now, she’s doing better. And I’m so grateful it wasn’t more serious or with devastating long-term effects, but it was maybe also the reminder I need to make changes now with them, because you never know what could happen next time.
Grandma is home and resting now, thank goodness.