These Things Happen

And so these things happen as though the world is stuck inside some kind of loop, not one where the same day happens day after day, each day is different. However, each day is the same in too many ways for it to be entirely coincidental. From the moment you wake up in confusion at the sound of the alarm, convinced it should be a weekend and wondering where your Sunday lie-in went. Then, standing in the kitchen waiting for the kettle to start your day and noticing the calendar has slipped through spring and summer without you even noticing….

And just when did all those other years happen?

Now those kids, who you had to bend down to take their hands, are almost as big as you are are, and have lives that run at tangents to yours – just when did they do all this growing up?

Your hair is grey and there is less of it to comb, as you stare into a mirror that seems haunted by the faces of your parents, while each day starts with a sigh.

It was not supposed to be like this. In the days when you dreamed of what you wanted your life to be, instead of looking back wondering what happened to it all, you used to never see yourself growing old. You used to be living on some Gauguin island with dusky tropical beauties sitting in awe at your feet on bright warm sand as you enthralled them with your tales of bravery and the wisdom learnt from a full life. A life where you kept all your hair and a sexy charm that followed you into the wisdom of dignified old age and not this one, where you can’t ever remember why you came into the kitchen in the first place, or even why you are still holding that spoon.