Monday, August 11, 2008

The Bratty Clock that Spat on Me

My daughter, at the young age of 41 is starting to notice how fast time is passing.

I have heard that the longer you live the smaller the percentage of your life each passing year becomes. That means the sand in my time line is poring out in chunks of granite.

When I hear of an event that happened two or more decades ago but it seems to be a brief few years, I turn to my husband and say "Wow, we'll be dead before you know it!"

That is what bites the big one about aging. It pisses me off that this wonderful exciting journey is headed back down the hill towards home. I don't want to go but perhaps as I shimmy up to that door I will have changed my mind and be ready to accept my long death nap.

And just what would the alternative be to time flies? Oh yeah, time stood still.

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