If I stare at Facebook too long my eyes will go cross-eyed. They won’t but I’ve started to tell myself this so that I can get back to focusing on the only thing that really matters.
My own life journey. And where I’m headed.
Only now I don’t let my mind wander or skip too far ahead. I believe that when you head upstairs to meet your maker or whatever you’d like to call it, only then will you be able to play your life back like a movie and skip ahead to the best bits, but for now I won’t worry about that.
The future is the future.
It will take care of itself.
Blink and you will miss today, even if at times it seems like nothing is really happening.
Children grow up so fast, people grow old too soon.
I’m 32 and I look back at pictures of my 21 year old self and while I don’t identify with that girl anymore I still remember how much fun I had and how lucky I was to share space with some very cool people.
Once I would think that if someone was documenting every single moment of their life for everyone to see that they were oversharing.
The keyword there is once because I don’t think this now. In fact I think you’re one step ahead of the game if you do. Besides it’s your choice, your story and I’m a big girl I know how to change the channel if I choose.
Had Joe and I not paid good money to have pictures taken when I was pregnant, despite thinking it was a little grandiose at the time, then we’d have no beautiful reminders of Penny and what life was like with her still in it.
Consequently, those pictures are like gold to me.
I know a lot of people roll their eyes at bloggers or at the idea of a blog, you might even roll your eyes at mine sometimes but I can’t worry about it.
I came very close to shutting mine down for fear of what people might think or say.
But since I know the fragility of life and how quickly it can all be taken away there is still every possibility that I won’t make it to old age or like my Nana, I may not remember it when I get there.
So if I do get dementia when I’m 90 I’d like to think that someone will sit me down in front of a computer (if we still have them) and read my blog back to me so that I can remember who I was…who I am still.
And maybe my children (if I am lucky enough to have any more) will stare at the weary overtired woman folding their undies, read this blog and remember that I too was young once and maybe for a split second they’ll even think their Mum was cool.
One can live and hope but I won’t worry.