When my 30-year-old son, Ryan, sighed last night, uttering something that was the end of the month already, I paused with a smile. He’s feeling it, the hands of time racing around the clock and ticking off the days faster than the end of a toilet paper roll (I love that metaphor).
It’s funny that I thought the same thing as him, and January is a LONG month with (5) Wednesdays. I count the Wednesdays because that is my bee days/guild meeting days for the last 25 years.
There is also one nostalgic feeling I rack my brain to remember (and do) when I was 11 or 12, which is the “forever” summer. Long, lazy Ohio days that went on and on and on. By the time school restarted after Labor Day, I was ready since I had all that time to swing on the swings, ride my bike, play with the neighbor kids, and run on a track team.
Time didn’t stand still, but it seemed a lot slower than it is now.
Perspective.
Perspective on time and what it does or doesn’t do.
bSoleille!
Terri
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