taking baby steps

It's hard to remember that we're all getting older sometimes. We celebrate birthdays, congratulate people on making it through another year of their life, but we never really feel all that much different because we're really only just one day older than we were yesterday, though our numerical age has increased.

I feel particularly young at times. Not normally, even though a part of my mind is conscious that I'm still considered the 'baby' amongst those I see the most often, but especially lately. Now I'm taking classes with people, working in pairs and groups with people who are anywhere from months to years to perhaps even decades older than I am. The discussions, viewpoints, abilities that we have make me feel my age more than I normally do. Why do I find it so difficult to become closer with these people who are older? I'm sure they have advice to give me, just as I do for them. Perhaps because, on the inside, I'm still ridiculously immature. Which is not to say that being younger in age automatically makes you immature, let's be clear about that.

On the other hand, in the past year and the few years to come, there's been that steady influx of posts from people who are graduating high school, or coming into their VCE and trying to make their decisions about what to do. These are posts that range in tone, but as the year progresses, I'm certain that there will be ever more posts in relation to 'the end of an era'. These posts make me feel my age, too, because these are people that I do often consider my equals (even if not in all areas of life), but it's easy to forget that they can be significantly younger. Most of the time it doesn't bother me, until these posts make me remember that I left high school five years ago. Not last year, or the year before, but five years ago. It's a pretty significant amount of time, especially when I look back at how naive, reckless, carefree I was back then. I've grown, but I still feel incredibly young, inexperienced, irresponsible, immature.

Last week, I accompanied my mother to an appointment with an eye specialist. I've known for a while that her eyesight was slowly going, but it's hard to be shown the visuals and be told that it's 'damaged' and probably 'irreparable'. It's hard to realise that my parents are getting old. Oh, I've always known it, of course, but it's never been a conscious thought that they're getting not simply older, but old. They struggle, are tired all the time, have all these health concerns, how they were surprised by their own ages this year. I can see that they, my mother especially, hates it all a bit. And it's shaming to not be more capable, in life, of taking care of myself, taking care of them. To be unable to be more adult, more grown-up.

But I'm trying a little bit at a time. There's still a long way to go.