I struggle with time
and the helpless feeling
that we cannot stop it.
Time is always passing
and we can't do one damn thing about it.
I think about this a lot.
Too much probably.
It makes me anxious.
A feeling I know
too well.
In 27 years
I have still not gotten used to it.
Can you?
It makes me anxious to think
time is always passing
and I am not fully taking advantage
of life.
Of everything.
A week ago
I was thinking about getting older
and for once
was okay with it.
I was not scared to turn 28 or 29 or 30.
I am close.
And then the next day
my Grandpa died.
And I panicked for a moment because
I could not remember the last time I saw him.
Or if I hugged him goodbye.
I must have.
But I can't remember.
And I thought
fuck time.
It is cruel and it
feels no sympathy for anyone.
But to live like that
would be such a waste.
To worry about every passing minute.
That is no way to live.
So tomorrow
I will say goodbye to him
and remember how he always called me toots.
I will be happy for time.
For the time he had here.
Happy for his life
and for mine.

1 comment:

Danielle said...

So sorry for you losing him. <3