How did we get this old?
One year. One month. One week. One day. One minute. One second.
At a time.
When I lived that moment as child, fighting with my brother, I didn’t know I would move so far away from it, Never being able to return to it. This was not understood by me.
As a teenager dragging myself down the halls of high school, trying to stay awake during monotone lectures and making lists of homework assignments, I had no idea I wouldn’t be there forever.
Holding my babies. It wasn’t real then, that now would be a time when they are grown and no longer just mine.
I didn’t count the seconds to getting older. And I didn’t live the minutes to just get old. But I have to spend them to get them.
I didn’t spend my time to turn it in to buying older.
But that seems to be what you get.
I’m okay with that. Actually, I’m very okay with it. But it just occurred to me that I had lived all of those seconds, minutes, days, weeks, month, and years…. to get to this minute. And the next.
And older is okay.
Because time spent does not dictate my old measurement.
And by the way.
Happy birthday Koji.
You ain’t old, You’re Koji !