Really Feeling Time Pass Lately

I’ve really been feeling that creaking of time. How it slips through the cracks, slips out the window in the middle of the night, and generally leaves without saying goodbye. One minute I was kind of struggling to stay afloat with three little kids in the evenings while my wife worked second shift; cooking, cleaning, bathing, and just keeping them safe and sound until bed. Next thing I know I’m looking at the very real future that our youngest might be moving 3 hours away with his girlfriend in January while she goes to college and he works. Our oldest has been out since last February, and our middle kid hasn’t lived at home since May of 2022.

Not sure I’m quite ready to be an empty nester.

Our beloved four-legged child, the prestigious miniature schnauzer Otto(aka Mr. Pooch McGooch), is an old man(dog) at the ripe old age of 14. He doesn’t have that pep in his step anymore, but I guess that’s to be expected when you’re the canine version of Yoda. He doesn’t move like he used to, sometimes needs help getting back into the house after going outside, he’s got a pot belly these days, his hearing and vision are fading, and he’s got some arthritis in his hind legs. Walking on the vinyl flooring can be challenging at times. It’s like he’s walking on ice.

He’s got his yearly check-up with the vet on November 7th, and I’m kind of anxious about it. What will they find? Is there something going on that we don’t see? Miniature Schnauzers have a history of heart issues, mainly leaky valves that lead to an enlarged heart. That could be happening, or a million other things.

Still, despite the natural aging issues that dogs have(let’s be honest, humans as well), he still eats well, sleeps well, has the normal bathroom habits, and is still always happy to see me when I come home. And he still follows me to the kitchen for a treat every time I get up. Plus, we’ve had him in our lives for 14 years! I can’t ask for much more. The joy he’s given us and what he’s given us as a family is more than I could ever imagine. So I just need to get out of my head about the anxiousness and just enjoy my Pooch McGooch while he’s still here with us.

Getting out of my own head is a hard thing to do. The worry issue is a real one for me. I get it naturally, from my mom. I go downstairs to work on music and my oldest’s giant goldfish Judas is next to the desk. Our kiddo left the fish when they moved out, leaving the responsibility of taking care of her to my son and his girlfriend. I sit there working on stuff and look over and there’s Judas, seemingly looking through my soul, attempting to telepathically tell me “So when the boy and the girl leave, you taking care of me?”, with an almost look of contempt and resided sadness.

Judas is right, I’m not the one to take care of her. I’ve got enough on my plate, I don’t need to be sweeping fish shit and food residue off the bottom of her tank. I clean up after humans in the bathroom. I don’t want to clean up after a goldfish, too. But I have gotten used to the fish being around, mainly because she reminds me of having my oldest back at home after they graduated college. They took Judas from one of her longtime friends who had her all through college. She didn’t want to take her to Kentucky for graduate school, so our oldest offered to take her in. I remember driving my kiddo to Pet Supplies Plus to by a 20 gal tank when the 10 gal was getting too small for Judas.

I think having something in their life to take care of, something that relied on them at a time when they were feeling alone was a good thing. All their friends had moved on to graduate school, so they were alone back in their hometown living in their parents basement feeling sort of untethered. They worked two jobs so being busy wasn’t a problem. I think having Judas at home gave them some other purpose that wasn’t being fulfilled. Now, they live in Indianapolis and are working two jobs once again, finally back at a library where they wanted to be in the first place. They’ve got a Siamese cat named Gaea and a wonderful girlfriend named Tor. They’ve found a pretty special place to live in now, both literally and emotionally.

And here I am, with my geriatric pooch and maudlin goldfish wondering where the time went.

I can’t help it. No matter how many great weekends I have and forward motion I see with my loved ones I still get stuck in the mire of worry, time, and that existential fear that I’m not making the most of it all. I’m just getting stuck in traps my own brain makes for myself. A guy I used to work with died yesterday. I didn’t know him very well. He was a machinist and then an engineer before he left. The few interactions I had with him he seemed like a nice guy. He was married and had older kids, and seemed like that part of his life was good. We’d heard he was fired from his job not more than a week or so ago. He and a few others were let go due to some sort of mistake that was made. Anyways, his wife and kids went out for breakfast Sunday morning. When they came back he was still in bed in the same spot his wife had left him. Had a massive heart attack. He was 51-years old. Barely a year older than me. Granted, he put on a lot of weight and was a smoker. At least he was when he still worked with us. But he was young, man. I’m sure losing your job would put a lot of stress on you, but still.

It was just another one of those things that reminds you that nothing is set in stone. Nothing is guaranteed in life, so you better make the most of it and don’t waste it all worrying about shit you have no control over. I have no control over my kids growing up and moving on. I have no control over the family dog getting old and dying. Like Thanos, it’s inevitable.

So I will say right here that I’m going to appreciate each day I get with my wife and my kids. I’ll appreciate every record spun, concert attended, and movie seen. Every word on a page of a book I hold in my hand. I’ll appreciate my time with my parents while they’re still here and able to enjoy life. I’ll appreciate every subpar painting I make, and every song I can write and record while I still have ideas bumping around in my head. I’ll appreciate every laugh I get out of my family with the stupid and inappropriate things I say off the top of my head. And I’ll appreciate every moment I’ve got left with my old, chubby dog Otto.

I’ll even appreciate you, Judas.