In an article I read today people over 50 discussed
Their feelings about death. The article mentioned Steve
Jobs’ death. Me: “There is no way Steve Jobs died in 2011”
If you had asked me how much time had passed I’d have said
A year, maybe eighteen months. My takeaway: It’s time, not
Death we should be talking about. They (THEY) have always said
Time passes faster the older you get. Run a mile on a quarter
Mile track. That first lap takes forever. Like a five year
Old waiting for Christmas. The last flies by. Like the time
between birthdays for an 80 (no…now 81) year old. Time
Is measured in perspective. Time, not death, is the quandary.
For optimistic 50 year olds at their halfway point and now
Over that half-century hump, the passing of time terrifies,
Confuses, horrifies. But nobody is talking. When it’s the same
Time distance from 80 as from 35, and 35 was just yesterday…
Still, time’s passing accelerates. Scary. Unnerving. Exponential.
When I was young the middle aged warned me time will start
Rushing by. Deaf ears. A friend captioned a photo of her son’s
College graduation “My parents said it would be here in an
Instant.” It was Christmas last week. Now the trees
Are in full leaf and somehow it’s summer. Halloween is
Just a week away in three minutes we’ll be counting down to
Another Christmas, a new year. Happy New Year. Again. So fast.
What is the anectode to rushing time, wooshing past at
Sci-fi movie speed? Is it the day? Is it the moment?
Years roar by but a day can last a lifetime. Let it last a
Lifetime. Embrace the day. Wallow in the moment.
Kids (me, just last week) sleep until noon, but those
Who know are mostly up with the sun. Marvel at the early
Morning light, the cool air. Commit to linger over coffee,
To plan a day with anticipation. A treasure chest of hours
Stretch. The minutes tick. The hours invite. A day’s
memories beacon, putting brakes on the breakneck
Speed of time’s passing. Good morning, welcome new day.
I love this, Susan. In my head I could hear the song “Time In A Bottle”. Each minute that passes us gone forever. Make each minute count.
Thank you Juanita. 🙂