Nothing scares me more than my own mortality since entering my fifties.
I don’t know if this is normal because of my age or not but I’m guessing my fear is slightly obsessive. It’s a daily occurrence for me to worry about how much time I may have left and the things I still want to accomplish, top of my list is see and hold my daughter again and have one chance at being the grandmother I’m not. I always envisioned this to be the happier part of my life with my children and their children around. I always was a busy person yet with no family in my life I lead a retired lifestyle and don’t like it. I’m too young. I find myself watching and listening to the children and families across the street at the park while sitting here or listening to my upstairs neighbor’s grandchildren running back and forth overhead weekends, it makes me sad but smile at the same time.
It seems anytime I begin a new week I get a message or read of someone I grew up with has passed away. Losing my mother, father-in-law and my grandfather within a short time span still has me reeling along with the many others I’ve known. My father in Florida just turned 71 and had another heart surgery one week prior. I didn’t expect all this loss so young, in my fifties! I always thought this began later but I was naive thinking it I see.
Life doesn’t always begin at 40.