When I Get Older...

So, my grandma is in a nursing home. She has been living in them for about...five years maybe? I probably don't visit nearly as much as I should, but I really do try. I find it utterly depressing to be in there, and it kind of breaks my heart to go there. Perhaps that is a selfish excuse not to visit more often, but I visit as much as my heart feels like it will allow.

It's not so much her that's depressing, although she does have her moments. It's the whole atmosphere. They try and make it happy, but it doesn't work so well. They have craft shows, and bake sales, and singalongs, but when it comes right down to it, it's still a hospital.

My least favourite part is walking down the long hallway to her room. It smells kinda funny, and there are always people in wheelchairs spread throughout the halls. Some of them say hello or just smile, and some of them call to you for help. "Get me out of here!!" "Why won't you help me!!" "HELP ME!!". Oh god. When they are all in the halls, I practically sprint to her door.

Anyways, yesterday was a visit Grandma day. My grandma has taken to never putting her teeth in anymore, so everything she says comes out in a slight lisp. She is also very hard of hearing, so everything that you say to her, you have to yell. She refuses to wear a hearing aid, but she did recently get this new gadget, that kind of looks like a ipod, but it's purpose it to amplify what everybody says. It makes the visits slightly more enjoyable.

My grandmother has had this obsession for a while about setting me up with the male nurse...Jason, I think his name is. I cringe to think of what she might say to him when I am not actually there. I picture her pointing to the photo of me she has on her dresser and saying something like, "that's her, that's the single one! What do you think?". I"m actually 90% sure that is what happens. I've never met this Jason, and really, I kinda hope I don't now!

Yesterday she was talking about this new tall guy that she saw.

Her: "He was like 6 foot 7."
Me: "wow, that's tall!"
Her: "He was handsome too. Very good looking boy."
Me: "Ummm who is this?"
Her: "The best man. From your cousin's wedding!"
My mother: "Ohhhh, you saw him in a picture"
Her: "Yeah, yup, the wedding pictures, I saw him"
My father: "Yeah, we brought them and showed them to you."
Her: "well, that's where I saw him then!"
My mother: "Yeah. He's already married"
Me: "Yes. How unfortunate".

This conversations tends to repeat itself in many variations during every visit.

My favourite part of the visit though (while simultaneously the most horrifying) was when we were leaving, and she was asking me about my job.

Her: "So, how's the job"
Me: "Oh it's good, it'll do for now. At least until I finish my novel."
Her: "You're what?"
Me: "My novel!"
Her: "Ohhhhh. Is it sexy???"
Me: horrified.

Also, "sexy" sounded more like "sesy" because she had no teeth in. I don't think I'll ever be able to erase that moment from my memory. No matter how hard I try.

The big 2-5

So, tomorrow is the day I will officially become old. I thought this last year, and the year before, and the year before that, but I think that this time, the anxiety is a little less in jest, and a little bit more real. Real as in...if I think about it too much I want to have some sort of breakdown. The basis of which would completely be my own doing.

The rational me says, 25 isn't that old, you still have your whole life ahead of you! But another part of me, likes to torment, saying "look at all the stuff you haven't done, the places you haven't seen, the people you haven't met!!". And that little voice is making me want to hide somewhere.

I suppose it's just a number. And I keep telling myself that. But there seems to be a whole lot of baggage that goes along with "being 25" that I don't want to carry.

Today, my boss was like, "how old are you turning? 26?". I almost had a coronary. I got all flushed, and spoke, rushing my words, "no, no 25!! Just 25!" Like that year really matters. Like anybody can tell the difference between a 25-26-27-28-29 year old just by looking at them.

Next year when I turn 26, will I still be this stressed out? Or does it get easier from here on out....once I graduate out of that youth stage, does it become just a number? Will I stop trying to measure my accomplishments by how old I am? Like I'm trying to check things off a predetermined checklist that somebody wrote back in who knows when?

When you are 25 you must:
-have a car
-have a house
-have a good, well paying job
-be getting married soon
-start thinking of names for your children

And etc and so forth with each passing year?

I would like to say "screw you!!" to whoever made that list. Those things are hard enough to accomplish without worrying that I'm in some mad race against time.

I'm trying to chill out about the whole thing. What the hell can I do anyway? It's going to happen no matter if I'm freaking out about it, or just completely chill about the whole thing, so why the worry? That's a good question. But knowing your thoughts are dumb and irrational doesn't necessarily stop the thoughts from happening.

Really, I think I just need to continue taking the baby steps that I have been trying to take, and eventually one day I'll reach all the goals that I've set for myself. Not the predetermined goals society has set, but my own goals, in my own mind, which I will reach in my own time.

Being 25 won't change anything. I"ll still be working towards the same things, I'll just have spent a little bit longer on this earth. Maybe if I'm lucky, I can babystep my way through another 50 or 60 years.

I shouldn't really spend my time dwelling on age, worry about where I should be, yada yada, blah blah blah. As a very wise woman once said, "when your number's up, your number's up". Ain't that the truth. The universe doesn't give a damn how old you are, life just happens. Day after day it goes by, until one day, it doesn't.

I'm going to try to spent my time looking ahead, instead of wasting my time looking behind. I just have to do what I can do while I am here. When it's all said and done, whether I am 27, 56, or 89, I just want to be glad I had a chance to even grab a number in the first place, not worry about the things I didn't get to check off "the list".