up up and old

one of my greatest fears growing up was to grow up. especially being old. i associated adults with the inability to wonder, because that’s what i saw in my parents— you go day to day and don’t stop to marvel at the sky or the sights or the small joys. like sometimes how it feels really good wash dishes because of the suds. or you’re eating food that you ate every day for the past who knows how long and there’s a moment where you pause, chew, and somehow it tastes new. 

and i kinda found that really frightening, to not have anything beyond what is exactly here and a precise routine. to have even the breakage of routine to be institutionalized and scheduled in new sights and vacations, instead of the odd wonders in the everyday. 

i’m questioning whether this is a given in life. it probably is not, but i still look towards growing older with some apprehension