Forward

It all goes forward. 
Whether we are actively aware of it, or whether we aren't, it all goes forward.  Constantly. 

I suppose I didn't pay attention to it before. 
My kids grew, but it was in small bursts, small enough that I shrugged it off, made those old stand-by comments (oh, they're growing like weeds!  I can't believe it's time for X birthday already!  Didn't I just give birth last week?)  But truly, even their growth spurts weren't enough to slap me into reality. 
No one died, not really.  I was briefly shattered when my grandfather died, but he didn't stay gone long, and I moved forward. 
No one got sick, not really. 
So there was just no reason, I suppose, to digest the fact that things were going forward, every second, every day. 
My face even seemed to stay the same. 


And then, like a gunshot ripping thru the silence, my son is six feet tall.  The summer-time freckles on my face have turned into permanent age-spots.  My grandmother is bloated with cancerous tumors.  My girlfriend is no longer a "girlfriend."  I have barely spoken to one of my best friends in seven months, and I've removed several more from my life completely. 
I am 50 pounds heavier than I was two years ago, with greater confidence than I have carried in 33 years. 
I am certain of things that I knew were completely untrue, just months ago.  And what I knew to be true not long ago, now leaves me scratching my head.  

I miss my girlfriend.  But, it was lovely. 

I miss my friend, terribly.  But I know that people grow apart.  And it's ok. 

I don't miss the people I've dumped.  But I wish things were better for them. 

I miss my miniature-self.  But I know that this fat ass is no better than a skinny one.  


And it all keeps going forward, regardless of what I say, or do.