Today’s my mom’s 65th birthday. When I look at her, I’m filled with immense gratitude. Thank you, Universe. Thank you, God. Thank you for restoring her health when things seemed bleak. Thank you for all the fights, the arguments, the hugs, and her blunt, cold, and often harsh advice.

But, as I look at her, I can’t help but realize she’s not the tall, curvy, big haired beauty she once was. She’ll always be beautiful to me, but that young, strong, vivacious woman is now a frail senior citizen. Where did the time go? Why did the time go? How can I stop it?

Soon after the shock of said epiphany passes, I come to another realization. If my loud, over the top mother is now a senior citizen, what does that make me?

If you don’t know me, you will say you see a slightly overweight, often sad middle aged woman with dogs. And you wouldn’t be wrong. Staying svelte now requires more time and a lot more effort than I have. In the United States, the life expectancy of women is 80.1 years so at 42 you are correct to categorize me as such. The dogs? They keep me sane. And the often sad part? Well, yeah…that’s me, too. But to understand my sadness, you have to understand that time is to blame.

Time. My biggest adversary. I fucking hate time. I’m never on time. Time is never on my side. Time flies. Time is of the essence. Wasted time. Time. Time. Fucking time.

And as I sit here, tears in my eyes, I wish time would have mercy on me. I wish it was for once, the right time. I wish I could reverse it, or maybe just make it stand still.

I’m scared. I’m scared I won’t visit all the places I want to see. Do all the things I want to do. Make my loved ones proud. Scared I’ll never own the Victorian house with the fenced backyard. Scared to lose the ones I love.

Above all? I’m scared time will run out and I’ll never get to hold him again.