They are getting old. It is one of those things that I just don't know how to deal with it, the idea that my parents are actually getting older. How can that be, when they are still my main strength? When I still lean on them like a babe too weak to walk at times, especially when life has given me a fine licking.
I look at pictures, I still see them as young, vibrant people, but something peeks out now that shows how age is creeping up. Not the grey hair, dad has had those for as long as I remember and I wouldn't let him color it, he looks all the more dashing for it. Not the lines on their faces, they are lines of wisdom, of hard work and toil. It is something else. Something undefined, something that I guess can't be changed.
It's hard to imagine the wheel turning, and I guess after seeing all that my grandparents have gone through and are going through even today, it's scarier. Coz' I know soon it will be my parents turn. I wonder, how they felt when they saw their own parents go through the phases of life.
And maybe beyond all this is the fact that deep inside I don't want to grow up. Not yet. I still want to call papa when I am taking some major decision - like even choosing an insurance plan...yes am not kidding. I still feel clumsy and helpless when am buying something big like an expensive suit or a piece of furniture coz I want to know what they think about how it looks on me. Not just anyone else, I want their opinion. And then there are times when I just want to curl into a little ball, looking for that warmth and security of my parents arms and the shelter they provided me from the outside world. Yes, I guess am just not ready to grow up yet, so no they can't get older. I just won't agree to that.
No comments:
Post a Comment