Those who read this blog know I love any question that begins with ‘What if…’ and all the stories that question leads to. But over the past couple years I’ve been noticing a new question creeping in. Not sure I like it, not sure I want to ask it, definitely don’t want to hear the answer.
I think this new question has to do with the gray hair starting to come in. They both seemed to arrive at the same time.
‘Is this it?’
Not so much ‘is this the sum total of my life?’ or ‘is this who I am to be from here on out?’. Or even ‘is this all there is?’.
Those of course are deep questions that can be asked at any stage of life. But it’s not how I’ve been asking that question. It goes something more like this.
When a semi truck going way too fast on the narrow bridge over the Skykomish river confluence is way over into my lane and there’s no place to go but the river. That brief second before the driver gets the truck safely back into his lane.
When lying on the table with your breast covered in ultrasound goo.
When you’re feeling up your arm pit thinking, has the lymphoma come back?
When you’re standing in the pantry trying to remember what you went in there for, and then can’t remember if you even wanted to go to the pantry.
When you realize that the generation older than you is fading and you’re becoming that older generation.
It’s actually an odd thing to think about, but I assume as everyone ages they begin to wonder what their end will be like.
In a way, it’s a rather sick humor sort of version of the ‘what if’ question. That makes me laugh now that I think about it.
Don’t get me wrong; I’m not brooding or even worried. It’s just occasionally the question pops into my head.
Is this it?
Well, not today. Today all is good.
Except for the housecleaning bit. But even that’s not so bad when music is blasting and the husband is helping and the dog is protecting me from the killer vacuum cleaner.