Tuesday, October 22, 2019

Sneaking

It sneaks up on me. The laundry. Empty to full hamper in seconds. I sigh and start another load.

It sneaks up on me. My inevitable aging. During a routine trip to the bathroom, my reflection catches my eye. Have I always had those lines around my mouth?!?

My hair has been far less devious. A slow creep from red to whitish-gray since the birth of my daughter 8 years ago. My boss at the time pointed out the first one.

"You have a gray hair!" she laughed.
"NO! What?"
"Kids will do that to you," she said and smiled in the way that makes it impossible to tell if you're being teased or not.

It sneaks up on me. The shift in a friendship.  Geography, kids vs. no kids, different life priorities, increasing dependence on social media to stay "connected." Suddenly you realize how long it's been since you've seen or actually talked to a person.  And in the same breath you realize how that fact isn't nearly as upsetting as it would have been a few years ago. 

It sneaks up on me.  The intermittent pain.  Neck, back, knees popping.  I sleep wrong and end up hurting for three days.  I spend too much time playing on the floor with my kids, and it hurts to get up.

It sneaks up on me.  The changing seasons.  Driving home yesterday, all the leaves were red.  It's almost as if it exploded into fall over night in my neighborhood. 

Do you know that Fleetwood Mac song "Landslide"?

Can I sail through the changin' ocean tides?
Can I handle the seasons of my life?

I don't know either, Stevie.  Some days I don't know if I can handle the laundry, much less the life changes... and I'm pretty sure that's why they choose to sneak up on me.