A man growing old becomes a child again. ~Sophocles

WOW! I flipped my calendar today and low and behold - February. I turn 45 next week.

Sigh.

I was told when I was a young thing that the older you got, the faster time sped along. Too true. Time is a blur now so I can only imagine what the next 20 years will be.

I caught Oprah's Masterclass with Jane Fonda the other night. (when you get my age you start watching things like Oprah's Masterclass) I found it fascinating. From the camera angles, to the cut-aways, to the casual feel that she was talking to the viewer. I know the older generation despises "Hanoi Jane". I found her charming and amazing during her interview. And it was so interesting to see where she had come from: her mother committing suicide and her distant father who could never really love her after that.

One of the points that stuck with me was her thought that our life is broken into thirds and she was entering into her final third, at 74 years old. I really shortened up our timeline for me. Instead of thinking of 80 individual years, if your lucky, it shrunk it down to just three wedges of time.

While I'll be smack dab in the middle of my second 'wedge' of time, my father had just started his third section when he died suddenly. And his mom, who just passed, had stretched her final third for all it's worth, at 98.

I'm at the age where the drinking age is flashed on cards with the DOB in '91 and it doesn't seem possible. Babies are being born around me by babies themselves. I think where I was in my last 20's and children weren't even a consideration for me.

Full families in their first third.

Time marches on. That's for damn sure. Sometimes it feels like it marched right over me and didn't even notice. So buckle up, put on a helmet and hold on. It only speeds up from here.