For Myself

(Many times at night I cannot sleep. I get up during the wee  hours and write. I've never posted these writings, they are simply saved as drafts. These are usually heartfelt words I've kept inside, too afraid to say them out loud. Tonight is such a night, this night I am reminding myself that I write for me, as a whole, and it's part of my way in "preserving a past to be proud of " my entire idea behind this blog) 

When was it that the days started to pass as quickly as minutes, and the years mere hours? 

Things did not happen with this blinding speed during my own childhood, that which I am most acutely aware of while I watch my Gran-children play endlessly outside. Time stands still for them, as it once did for me. 

A seed planted in a cup took forever to sprout. Time dragged on so that the clock appeared to be traveling backwards. Car trips seemed endless, Summer was a different lifetime. The future stretched ahead infinite as the stars in the nighttime sky, shinning with eternal hope and promise. I was immortal. As far back as I could remember I've existed in this world, so how possibly could the world exist without me. The bright and eternal future waited for me. I had all the time in the world. 

But then suddenly without my awareness or consent, time began to pick up speed, days, months, even whole seasons began to slip by easily. All of a sudden one morning I discovered it was Fall, What happened to Summer I wondered, and all the things I thought I would accomplish during the season that never came to be. It seemed to have all passed without my noticing it, until it was gone. I was suspicious, but even then I could not grasp the truth. 

Only when time gathered the frightening momentum that rushed events into the past at lightening speed was I able see that I was not immortal. My favorite songs that evoked special moments were played on oldie stations. The current events taking place during my childhood suddenly became the stuff in history books. Seasons became closer and closer. A soft cushion of fat formed on my thighs overnight, and surely wrinkles appeared as I looked at myself in the mirror. 

I began to see that my life will rush by at an alarming rate. I will grow old. 

The trees that have grown tall, my home, my family, my animals, the imperfections of my ageing body, the events that fly towards the past remind me today of these truths that I learned some years ago. My mind accepts them, and usually, my heart does as well, Being too busy living today and planning tomorrow, to do otherwise. Sometimes though, I grieve for everything that has gone by. I mourn a future that cannot be slowed down and stretched into the infinity I wish for myself. 

It is not despair I feel, it is just an ache. 

I hurt over old mistakes, harsh words, bad choices, wrong paths. I linger over memories of childhood pleasure, first love, the joy of learning. I long for the return of the Summer song of my youth. 

I do all these things when I feel the clock ticking double time. I remember uttering words so cutting and harsh they caused wounds that never healed properly. When I'm aching over life's shortness I remember countless mistakes, caused by acting without thought. My fears and flaws and embarrassing moments seem worse in the light of the present. 

I remember too, sparkling moments in the long distant past. 

The pains and joys of today will soon be part of my memories as well, all to soon. The future is not the endless expanse I foolishly thought it was. I cannot slow it's passage any more than I can retrieve the past, Even if I could, would I really want to change my life, change who I am? 

Still there is this ache. 

Tomorrow I will forget it...

picture credit- Robert Duncan, Artist

The Girasole Lady