By it, I mean, MIDDLE AGE. It seems just like yesterday I was playing with dolls, riding bikes all day with no shoes on, and climbing trees. Then came the horrible teen years. When hanging out with friends and boys were my top priority. Then cam my 20's, where I almost got married. It's a long story and a whole other blog entry. After the breakup, I changed my dreams alot. Instead of tying the knot, I decided I would sow some wild oats before settling down. I drank and partied pretty much every weekend. A few week days, as well. In my late 20's, everything came crashing down on me. I was diagnosed with Crohns Disease. Once again, I had to step back and re-evaluate my life. I stopped the partying and now only drink on occassion, socially.
Now here I am, beginning the last year of my 30's. I just noticed that time has really flown by between the years of make believe to the cruel, real world. How did I get here? When did I change from the sweet (I'm using that term loosely) child wanting to grab life by the horns and go for all my dreams? to the woman I am today? When did I transform from a child who loved my mom so much and would have done anything for her. I did as much as I could for her, even though there were times, I could have bitten my tongue in half when she got on my nerves and said and did things that hurt my feelings. There are some things that are too private and too shameful to admit publicly. But she is still my mother. But , when did I grow up to be old enough to watch my momma, the woman who gave me life, who was there for me when others turned their backs on me, go through a serious illness and die? How did those years go by so fast?
When Momma's illness was so bad and even watching her end one journey and begin another, more beautiful one where there is no pain or hurt. Only love exists. I can't seem to fight the depression that threatens to creep in and destroy me. I remember everything about last year at this time. It was my mom's last Christmas here on earth. Those memories bring back all of the hurt of those difficult days. I didn't know how I was going to make it through those days. When she was in the hospital and I sat by her bed watching her slip away, I didn't know how I was going to survive the pain. And the days that followed were the most horrible of my life. When I attempted imagining how this Christmas would be without Momma here, I would break down and cry, knowing I wouldn't be celebrating Christmas with her, I couldn't stand the thought of not knowing what to do or how to handle it. Now, here I am in the midst of the holidays and a part of me wants to crawl in the bed with the covers over my head, sleeping until the days are over. The other part of me wants to celebrate Christmas. It's just not the same.
Just when and how did I get to middle age? I know I've rambled alot in this entry. Not really a clear thought in my head today. Just typing what pops into my mind. I will go for now and try to figure out a way to battle middle age and the grief I still feel. Too many things happening at once, I suppose. I'm taking it one day at a time.
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