Yesterday I celebrated my 33rd birthday. Birthday celebrations these days aren’t quite the raucous events they used to be, more a gathering of my immediate family over a relaxed meal out. Although my lovely parents did babysit for us on Saturday night and the hubs and I were able to enjoy a novel date night just the two of us. Bliss!
I vividly remember the night before turning 20, lying in my room in my house share at university, freaking out a little – not because I was turning 20, but because in ten years time I would be turning 30. And that felt soooo old back then! I reassured myself with the reminder that ten years is a bloody long time in the grand scheme of life, and that my thirties were ages away…
But in all honesty, I feel like that night was only yesterday. I find it hard to believe that I’m approaching my mid-thirties. I mean, I actually remember my mum being in her mid thirties and she seemed old (sorry mum, I mean that in the sense that you seemed like a proper adult).
I really don’t feel that different to my twenty year old self.
Yes, of course I feel a little more hagged. Having two children does that to you. And I definitely feel more wise. I’m not half as selfish and I’m far less self-conscious. So on the whole, I think I’ve become a better person over my adult years.
But I can’t help feeling a little scared.
For some reason I’ve always had an irrational fear of growing old and a distinct awareness of time and the years passing by. I count down my life in chapters and seasons, and I already obsess a little about losing my parents. The idea of being middle aged horrifies me. Not because I care that I’ve passed my ‘peak’, that I’m gaining wrinkles or that my youthful days are behind me. But just because I’m not ready and I can’t seem to make peace with the idea that we are not immortal.
I know, a little morbid right?
Becoming a mum has done little to ‘cure me’ of these thoughts. Now, more than ever, I’m only too aware of time slipping through my fingers and memories fading in my head. Excitement about what the future will bring as my children get older, is tainted by the acute awareness that they’re growing up so fast.
Perhaps this is one of the reasons I write this blog. So that I can frantically capture all of our days, before they disappear and I forget them forever. Before blogging I was always a diary writer, a note taker, a poet, a quote keeper. I’ve always had a need to capture my thoughts on paper, so they can’t escape.
But I’ve come to realise that this uneasiness I have with time passing by, also has its positives. I appreciate the everyday, I don’t hold grudges and I’m so thankful for everyone and everything I have in my life.
Time is so precious and life so fleeting. Enjoy it.