Time is a funny thing. Frequently seems fluid, until suddenly more has passed than you realize. Some days that hits harder than others.
I do not celebrate Easter. I like to dye eggs, I like to eat the tasty food, I do not need to cheap chocolate in my life, and I side-eye the whole Zombie Jesus thing as absolute truth leading to a cannibalistic "god of love" religious cult. That being said, my grandparents are devout Christians, but the kind that actually practice unconditional love and none of that judgement bullshit (out loud anyways). I am lucky to have them in my life still, and so when they invite us to Easter dinner, the answer is an automatic yes.
Distance and Covid have made seeing my grandparents regularly difficult, so I take opportunities as life allows. It strikes me how quickly and how much they have aged over the last few years. My grandfather is shorter than ever, has those strange bruise-like marks on his arms that seem to happen to the elderly, and walks with a significant limp due to needing a hip replacement. My grandmother has also shrunk considerably, and watching her struggle with the simplest things simply because she has lost nearly all the strength in her hands and arms is so hard; as well as seeing how quickly she gets exhausted. It doesn't help that they are realists about mortality, not obsessive or morbid, but facing that reality head on. I respect that, and I think their faith helps with that.
I recognize I am very lucky to have had them in my life this long, and for most of it they have been healthy and active. They have also made a point to tell me they were (and are) proud of me, despite how very different our beliefs are. Facing the reality of their mortality is not something I am ready for, even though it's inevitable. We've always been close. I am the oldest of the grandchildren by eight years. I remember them when they were around my age. That is strange.
The whole time passing/aging thing also hit real hard spending time with my mom this past weekend too. Her previous job took a significant toll on her mental health - to the point where she was medically retired. Watching her struggle to regain herself while continually fighting the PTSD and for the SSI/Disability she is owed (three years later and still fighting for it) is so frustrating. Add to that watching her physical health decline, her hands have tremors, she gets vertigo and falls uncomfortably often, and a few other issues she has trouble dealing with. She needs an advocate and access to care, but she is just barely too far away for me to be able to help. She also looks old now. That is weird too.
Dealing with mortality isn't something I shy away from, but it IS weird. I think the decline is possibly worse than the mortality. Watching people you love no longer be able to do the things they enjoy, or even simple every day things for self care. Every time I see my mom or my grandparents, that decline is more apparent. Yesterday, it really hit hard and I don't know how to process it. It just IS a part of life. A very hard part of life.
I need a hug.