Wednesday, January 30, 2013

The Passing Of Time

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January went by insanely fast this year. I feel like all I remember of it is celebrating New Year’s Eve, and then today, with just a massive blur in between, punctuated here and there with moments that stand out more clearly. Moments like Lucia and I’s first Kid Free Girls night in what I can only estimate has been years, the officially official end of me and Bill, standing in the cold crying over not being understood, the freeze that killed every plant in my back yard, 3 straight days of rain, adopting a cat, and always feeling guilty about how badly I needed to go grocery shopping. Maybe it happens as you get older, maybe it’s all in my head, but I am genuinely becoming concerned that one day I won’t remember any of the little things about my life, because its all happening too fast. That all of the days will have rolled up on me into one big, shapeless mass of time.
The small moments of peace, the fleeting seconds of joy, the bloom of unbearable sadness, the swells of pride and the warmth of absolute love, that feel at the time like they’ll be with us forever seem to fade far more quickly into the background than I ever thought they would.
Suddenly you look back and they’ve been covered up by the white blank knowledge of passing time, like you’re two steps ahead of a heavily falling snow, which covers up your tracks as soon as you lay them.
A few nights ago I found a journal of mine from Spring of 2009, and while I remembered everything I wrote about happening once I read it written there on the page, I still found myself surprised. It seemed that I only recalled those small moments or random nights once I was reminded of them by my own clumsy penmanship.
I can’t help but feel like I have just started another new year, one that even with all its sham hope and optimistic goals, will still fly past me so quickly I can barely grab it, and at this time next year if I look back on what was cataloged during 2013 there will be so much I’ve already forgotten.
I wish you could choose what memories would stand out to you down the road. Like as something is happening that you never want to forget, you can freeze it and pin it to your board of memories that don't fade out or disappear into the blur. That one will stay clear and prominent forever.
I wish I could know for sure in 20 years that the exact sound of Jackson's 4 year old voice, or the specific feel of Lainie's 9 year old hand would stand out perfectly clear in my mind's eye, instead of every line to The Notebook or how to calculate a client's yearly sales pace.
I wish I could know for sure which memories would stay with me forever, and which ones I had better take better care of, because they're going by as quickly as time, already making their exit as soon as they arrive.

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