Last night at dinner, over some yummy pesto ravioli and made-from-scratch Alfredo, I remarked to Ryan about how life seems to be moving so fast these days and I can't seem to catch up. Sometimes I feel like it's leaving me behind, in a sense.
We've watched just about all of our closest friends marry. Then they started buying houses and having kids. Now our parents are aging, some with pretty complicated health issues.
"They're not going to die soon," he told me later as we were sitting on the couch digesting.
"It's going to be sooner than later." I crossed my arms over my chest and pouted a little.
I haven't had the best relationship with my parents; my father especially. We are polar opposites in many ways, including our social, political and economic views. I vehemently disagree with a lot of the choices they have made throughout their lives, for which they are now suffering the consequences.
"But how will I be my Mom's kid without my Mom? I still feel like I'm 12 years old sometimes!"
"Honey, you're being irrational. You'll always have a mother, alive or dead. Yay, Scooter's face doesn't smell like cat-butt anymore."
Love that Ryan, I do. He is always the voice of reason and the master of changing the subject.