My birthday was August 6th. I'm officially 30.
And you know what...
I do feel older.... more mature.
I look at things in the world and the people around me a bit differently.
I appreciate my mother more. I treasure my grandmothers and aunt, the little time we have left together in this world.
I wonder how it feels to be in your 80s and 90s in this world today. It must be so drastically different from when they were 30. The choices they had to make. The careers they had to choose from... the children they have raised.
It makes me hurt for them.
Do they ever pine for their youth? Or wish for someone to hear the thoughts in their minds that they can't convey into words due to the dementia and old age?
I look into their eyes and I just see the desire. The desire to respected, loved, appreciated, and needed like they once were at a point in their lives.
Just to feel important is to be important.
The gleam. I see it. It's still there. The desire. I see it. It's still there. The passion for life. I see it. Still there.
Yet when you're wrapped inside a feeble body and a mind that's going through a constant loop of memories that you are trying to hold on to for dear life... you get lost.
Forgetting. Trying to remember. That's the battle they fight everyday.
My battle is just trying to focus. Life. Love. Family. God.
I understand, but keeping focus... that's my war.