Time’s Winged Chariot


My much-loved, brilliant, funny and, yes, very beautiful, niece, Chelsea, is graduating today. I have come to believe that the only real method to realize the passing of time is through the children. I have friends who have kids turning 30 this year. THIRTY???? How the hell did that happen?

Then again, last night I was out with a group of friends and one of them was mentioning their 40th high school reunion was approaching. FORTY???? I shouldn’t talk. I recently attended my 35th college reunion. How the hell did that happen?

The only time that doesn’t seem to pass is the age of our departed loved ones. When Joe died he was 63 years old. A young 63. Thinking that he would have just turned 66 in April kind of freaks me out. For some odd reason 63 didn’t seem so old–  but 66? That’s on the down hill side to 70! Nope – he doesn’t turn 66 in the picture in my mind. Always 63.

My dad’s birthday was yesterday. He was born in 1903. He died in 1994; just shy of his 91st birthday. I am horrible at math but I believe that means he would have been 111 yesterday. I can only picture him as a sprightly 90 year old. My mom? Always 68. My brother-in-law, Steve, always 50.

Time. We all know it’s a limited gift that should be cherished but somehow we waste so much of it. I spent the first hour this morning screwing around on Facebook although I have a laundry list of things that would be such a better use of my time.

Like getting ready for Chelsea’s graduation. I really should get going.  I am one of the few people I know who love graduations. I love the pomp. I love the circumstance. I love the wide grins on all those young faces – and the tears on the faces of their loved ones. I love the energy and the sense of hope and enthusiasm for the future. I love it all.

Except the parking. Gotta run! Hey folks — cherish the day. You never know when it might be your last.




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