Lately my life has felt somewhat like this:
Am I on the train? Am I driving it, and haven’t figured out that the brakes work? Am I in front of the train, and have no hope of getting off the tracks in time…
Or am I standing on the platform in the station, watching it as it speeds past?
Everything’s been moving at light-speed, barely giving me a moment to catch my breath from one stop to the next. And while I’m moving as fast as I can, just to keep up… I’m not sure I have the brain power to keep moving this fast and furiously forever.
Not that all of it’s been bad.
There have definitely been some good things going on, and I’m happy about them. Getting to know A better has absolutely been a good thing. Being able to spend time with him, getting to know his kids, it’s been a whilrwind – but one I’m glad to be caught up in. I wouldn’t change that, because it’s been a lot of fun, and I’m smiling more, giggling, even… it’s enough to make YoungerDaughter comment “Geez, Mom – you’re worse than a teenager!”
To which I say “And that’s bad, why?”
And the anticipation time for the new grand-baby coming is growing. We’re only a couple of weeks away from EldestDaughter’s due date, and she’s getting ever more impatient. I’ve almost resigned myself to the fact that she’s going to find a way to get on the back of a motorcycle on a bumpy country road, just to be done with this already!
I laugh about it, but I remember that same feeling – oh so very well.
But there have been other things, not-so-happy things, that have been zooming past, daring me to keep up or be left behind. The situation with EldestDaughter has been a difficult one, and there are still some unresolved issues. I know that we’ll work them out, get her life back on track and going in a healthy direction. It’s just hard – knowing that I can’t actually do anything to catalyze the change. ED has to do that herself. I’m just here as support staff.
So, where does that leave me in relation to the train? Hell if I know.
Somedays, I’m on it, watching the scenery slide past in a watercolor blur, not knowing which station I’ll get spat out at.
Some days – I’m driving the train – blowing the whistle and laughing my head off at the sheer exhiliration of the speed we’re travelling. Hair blowing around my face, and my eyes shining, I look forward in anticipation of what’s going to appear seconds away just up over that ridge. I’m strong, and ready for it.
I guess – it’s all just a matter of perspective?