Birthday #3LineTales

three line tales, week 170: an unhappy birthday party

Gone were the birthdays of her childhood which had always been filled with excitement. Now, they were the same old parties with the ageing relatives and friends, the boring talks, the out of fashioned music and the too sweetly iced cake. She longed to be taken back in time, to remember birthdays were it was good to be another year older and not feel her age creeping upon her.

 

(Inspired by; https://only100words.xyz/2019/05/02/three-line-tales-week-170/ with thanks).

 

 

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Age #TaleWeaver

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Sometimes it was just nice to sit down in silence and think. The park at sunrise was my place to go and do that. Nearly everyone was still in bed and there weren’t many cars on the roads. My favorite bench was at the far side of the small lake, further in then all the other resting spots. It give a great view though and if joggers, dog walkers and early starter workers were around I wouldn’t see any of them.

Age was getting to me though and it was a struggle to rise at four or five in the morning. Let alone hobble all that way! Getting the bus was easier, but sometimes I didn’t make it in time to see the sun began to rise. I tried not to let it get to me, the same way one might an illness or an argument. Like a circle though, it keep coming back around.

You don’t really think about mortally when you are young. You believe you are immortal and your life is too busy to stop and ponder deep questions like that. Though death is close at hand for us. He doesn’t care what you are doing when he sees your number is up and it’s time for him to come to take you.

Death is a friend of mine. That seems strange to say but he’s taken my three wives, two sons, my oldest brother and sister, my parents and grandparents too. He’s been apart of my life since I was born. I’m not afraid and I’ve always known I wasn’t going to live forever. That realisation helps as you age and you are just waiting out the days.

I’m following in my dad’s footsteps once again. We all do that you know. As young people we say no! I won’t become like my parents, I’ll be better or even worse if that’s what it takes. But then, we slowly become like them. Little habits they have, become our own. Voices that sound like them in moments of anger or sadness. We phrase from ourselves to them and back again, another circle that can’t be broken.

The sun rises and I feel the warmth on my dry, wrinkled skin. I wonder if there’s anything beyond this life. I’m not sure I want there to be. One life has been enough for me. I’ve said my peace and that’s all.

(Inspired by; https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2018/03/15/tale-weaver-163-aging-15th-march/ with thanks).