Time Warps

I don't know if it is because I am growing older (by the second), but I keep forgetting about time moving forward.

For instance, I still think of my house as "new".

It was built in 1987, except for the sun room, which was added on a few years later, which one I can't remember.

Some people, because it is a pseudo Victorian, think it is the real deal and built more like in 1895. That's a true compliment.

I realized how my thinking goes, because coming down the stairs early (for me) this morning I noticed how the tread is worn right down the middle of the oak stairs.

The stain is lighter there from almost twenty-seven years of use.

In other ways that time is getting away from me:  Daughter. She should be about twelve by my reckoning. But she somehow has arrived at age twenty-three.

And seeing peers whom I haven't seen in some years. Man, are they old, are what? How come I still look about thirty-five(ish)?

Oh, it's because I always look in the mirror fully clothed except for my glasses.

Works every time.

And why is my mother turning into a frail, elderly woman? Not just a geriatric, but really old.

I am now the geriatric, almost.

And my baby brothers?  How dare they have another birthday tomorrow that gets them extremely close to fifty years of age.

And my nephew,  my sweet little boy nephew, has a child of his own now who looks just like him. And by that I  mean the way he should still look.

I'm telling you, Methuselah ain't got nothing on me.