How many more times?

I am not a fan of this whole getting older thing, for me or for anyone else I know. Mainly because I am not fond of change, and, the more time passes, the more things change that you can't control. This realization is taking its toll on me in many ways. A major instance is, though I'm not sure when it started, a question has been echoing in the back of my mind for many years: "How many more times?"

I heard it this past summer when I was home in the States. When I visit home, it's the whole three things are inevitable saying: Death, taxes, and I make the trip from where my family lives now to where we used to live so I can visit my best friends and my aunt. It's been that way for 20+ years now. But for the past couple of visits, that voice has been there constantly when I am at home, particularly when I am visiting people. "How many more times will I see you?" and "How many more times will I make this drive?" pokes and pries at my consciousness when I make my way to my Aunt's home. It's a drive I have made many, many times. The route is firmly etched into my mind. However, I don't make it home all that often, what with living in Japan (time, costs, logistics, etc.), and my aunt was getting older, so the chances that I would be needing to make that drive, it felt, decreased significantly after every time I made it.

That question pops up for me in regards to pro-wrestling, too, and I hate it. Pro-wrestling is something all about fun, excitement, and enjoyment for me. I don't want to be thinking depressing thoughts and feel melancholic as I'm trying to cheer while someone does a hurricanrana. Yet I can't shut that questioning voice up. I hear it the most at Wrestle Kingdom. I've been attending Wrestle Kingdoms since WK13 (it was WK19 this year). I love my life in Japan, but, for reasons I'm not going to get into, it is somewhat precarious. It's not in my plans (though "I never make plans that far ahead"), but every year could be my last year in Japan and I am reminded of that when I attend Wrestle Kingdom. "How many more times will I get to attend Wrestle Kingdom?" is a faint whisper that is growing louder as each year passes.

Today I learned that I have, in fact, made that drive for the last time. My aunt passed away over the weekend and, even if I end up in the area where she lived again, that drive will never be the same because she will never again be waiting at the end of it. It's such a strange feeling to grapple with, knowing that part of your life has been so fundamentally altered in a way that you had no control over. Part of growing up, I suppose, is learning to deal with (or at least try to deal with) this. I accept it, but I am never going to be happy about it (and I despise people who try to be cheery about such things, with the whole "Well, that's just life!" or "It's all part of the plan!" I would probably break my own body in several different ways if I ever attempted to do a hurricanrana, but people who say those sorts of things really tempt me to give it a try). 

I take solace in one thing though. I enjoyed that drive, both literally and as a concept. It wasn't always a pleasant road trip, but the part of my life it represents means a lot to me and so many memories are attached to it. Though it makes me cry thinking about it now, I am glad I can remember it. I feel that way about Wrestle Kingdom too. The nagging thought that it may be my last one makes me enjoy it even more, to get more into the matches than I might otherwise, to live in the moment. As annoying and depressing as that whispered question can be, I can't deny that it has some value for me now. I still hope my last Wrestle Kingdom isn't for a long while now though. And I hope my aunt is happy and at peace, and that she knows how much she meant to me.