Time

Time

Last night as we got into bed, it occurred to me that Athena, our dachshund, will be 8 this year.  I'm not entirely sure how that's possible for it was just yesterday that she was placed on our front porch while my sister and brother in law anxiously hid behind the bushes waiting to yell "surprise!" My husband did not have pets growing up and when we received her the South Florida (read national) economy was plummeting due to the housing crisis.  It was a scary and difficult "time." He was very apprehensive those first few weeks with her.  Today, their nightly goodnight kisses could make the warmest of Hallmark cards seem steely and cold.

8 years, how could all that time actually have passed? For all that we as a global civilization have learned, have we fully come to comprehend the concept of time? My answer is: no.

The English language is riddled with sayings and quotes about time, in fact, I'm sure you could think of two or three this very instant.

Time waits for no one.

A stitch in time saves nine.

Time is money

What a waste of time

Equally, we toss about the word "time" flippantly and almost irreverently. "Yea, I do that all the time" or "did you have a good time?" When we ask someone "did you have a good time?" What we are actually saying is "did you enjoy yourself during that increment of your life?"  Increments, the building blocks, the atoms, of time.

As is our inherent nature as humans, we try in vain to manipulate time in the same fashion we try to manipulate so many other cosmic forces in our life.  We try to speed time up, slow time down, and in what is probably our most foolish mortal endeavor, we try to stop time.

We need only to look at a current magazine to see how many celebrities do their best to stay "frozen" in time. Only by going online and researching can we know a celebrity's actual age.  It would seem that 90 is the new 40.

As I walk through our home, every item has a marker, a time stamp on it. My wall of Greek icons, I started collecting those almost 30 years ago.  I got my first one as a gift when I was 13.  They speak to my soul, they ground me. The oil painting of the yachts in the harbor, we picked that up at a thrift store about 6 years ago. I still smile at its beauty every time I walk by it. My favorite Harrods mug which I bought on a New Year’s trip to London 11 years ago, I keep it towards the back of the shelf. I only use it on weekends and special occasions.  In fact, I hand carried it in a backpack along with my jewelry during our last move.

These markers although they can be quantitatively frightening at times, are scenes in the movie of my life thus far.   They speak of the time I have spent on this earth.  While the physical items give us a timeline to our existence, it is the things which cannot be physically touched that truly allow us to appreciate the sometimes harsh and sometimes splendorous qualities of time.

Through time, I've come to realize that my parents are my closest friends. At this age, I am beginning to relate to them, their struggles, their stories.  I enjoy spending time with them, having them over for Sunday dinner brings me joy.  It's great fun at the time and a deposit into my memory bank for the future. We seldom realize that bank needs to be funded constantly. It is the mental IRA of our tomorrows.  I’ve realized that my husband is one of the strongest and most selfless people I know.  I thank God daily for bringing him into my life.  I’ve realized that I see different stages of my life in the lives of my younger siblings.  I’ve realized that watching my best friend of 27 years battle cancer is one of the toughest scenes I’ve ever had to watch.

I’ve also learned that there are several simple things in life that make me happy at a basic core level.  I’ve learned that few things can replace the feeling of reading a good book.  I always have one on top of my nightstand and two or three waiting to be devoured on the shelf below.  I’ve learned that sparkling water lifts my spirits, I buy it by the case. I’ve learned that I love taking care of my rose bushes, I anxiously await each new bloom.  I’ve learned that the aroma of fresh baked bread is as intoxicating as the stiffest martini.  I’ve learned that watching the full moon rise over the ocean can center you like few things can.  Have I learned everything I “should” as I’m about to turn 40 this year, I can’t say, just give me “time” and I’m sure I will.