I’ve just tidied up some of my book collection, reminiscing
the days I bought them home and devoured them. However, just like any other
normal sensical reader out there, there are many that I haven’t read yet.
When words started to get blurry, and I had to get my first
glasses, I gradually enjoyed reading and other meticulous hobbies less. I
thought that was the price of growing old. When I breathed and sprained a
muscle instead of being immortal when I was young, I thought that was the price
of growing old.
They are not. The ultimate price of growing old is watching
my parents and loved ones do the same. My dad is no longer the strong man I
know, capable of almost anything. It pains me to see him taking longer and
longer to get up from the floor (he loves playing with Locky) and how his back
hunch, how my mom has less and less ability to do her hobbies, but regardless
of that, both are still the first one to be there whenever we need them. It’s
hard to hold Locky in my arms and know that the more I prepare for the imminent
day of losing him, the harder it will be.
I wrote about humans being fragile and full of flaws because
of our attachments to others and the what-if options of not having them. A
projection, much? I think it’s fair to say that it’s a very real fear for many
forever.
Somewhere, if you are not in a good place because you are
missing someone or harboring the same fear as me, I wish you peace and
strength.
I'm at another editing round of my new book and will be
looking for beta readers soon. As long as one person likes my book, I'll
continue writing. (Oh yeah, myself included) (I'm not as strong as my younger
self, but I'm more stubborn and spiteful, and those keep me going :)
