I have reached an age where my train of thought often leaves the station without me.
I can recall when I could run around a hundred meters track without dripping any sweat. It was stress-free, and I never missed kicking off to the gym on Saturdays.
I always jogged with my sons as we always compete for the fastest racer; I was always at the top, but sooner than later I started dropping until I couldn’t run a meter any longer.
I never stopped going to the gym, but it’s always for sightseeing; it reminds me of the days I could do the same thing.
It reminds me of my youth, and the sweet experiences; I wish I could turn back the hands of time and I will be able to live in my youth again.
I always visited the gardens; that was where my husband proposed, we weren’t people who loved going on outings, we make do of what we have and it always turned out beautiful.
My youthful days were the best moments of my life, and I will always tell my children to make the best out of it, because when you get old you will forever live with the memories.
I never saw myself getting old, losing some part of my memories, not being able to go everywhere I want, or do things like I want them, but I don’t have any right to complain as no one stays young forever.