“When I started school I thought that people in sixth class were so old
and knowledgeable even though they were no older than twelve. When I
reached twelve I reckoned the people in sixth year, at eighteen years of age,
must have known it all. When I reached eighteen I thought that once I finished
college then I would really be mature. At twenty-five I still hadn’t made
it to college, was still clueless and had a seven-year-old daughter. I was convinced that when I reached my thirties I was going to have at least some clue as to what was going on.
Nope, hasn’t happened yet.
So I’m beginning to think that when I’m fifty, sixty, seventy, eighty,
ninety years old I still won’t be any closer to being wise and knowledgeable.
Perhaps people on their deathbed, who have had long, long lives, seen it all,
traveled the world, have had kids, been through their own personal traumas,
beaten their demons, and learned the harsh lessons of life will be thinking,
“God, people in heaven must really know it all.”
But I bet that when they finally do die they’ll join the rest of the crowds
up there, sit around, spying on the loved ones they left behind and still be
thinking that in their next lifetime, they’ll have it all sussed.
But I think I have it sussed Steph, I’ve sat around for years thinking
about it and I’ve discovered that no one, not even the big man upstairs has
the slightest clue as to what’s going on.”
―
Cecelia Ahern,
Love, Rosie
