Do you ever notice how the minutes every day race by when we’re not even paying attention?
Whenever I walk by the clock in my home, I hear the tick tock of hands that are always moving.
A few days ago, when I was taking a picture of my sweet little son, I had a flash of how quickly the months are passing. It seems like yesterday we were making our summer fun list and here it is almost mid August. How does that even happen?
Sometimes I want to jump up and down on the brakes of time. I want to holler at the tops of my lungs, “Time, aren’t you tired of running so fast? How about sitting yourself down for awhile? Take a load off, get some rest.”
Yet time doesn’t grab for the chair and the days keep ticking away…
Enter this story.
The photo caught my eye, then the title. I guess I’m at a stage in my life that if someone is willing to offer a bit of wisdom, I pay attention.
A few words in, I was glued to it. The author definitely has a way with words about life and the concept of time.
Before I even got to the end, I knew you’d love it and would want to read it, too.
I’m an old father now. Suddenly it seems.
My sons have sons. I own lots of memories. I polish the sweet ones and never dust the ones that hurt.
I mind time now. I didn’t used to. In fact, like lots of you, I was reckless with time. Not any longer.
When I was a boy of about 9 or so, I had the temporary misfortune of being the last to the dinner table … and that meant sitting just to the left of my father. That was like sitting next to the district attorney … or the pope. My brothers loved my dilemma … because that’s what brothers do. It’s in the Irish Manual of Life.
So … there I was … waiting for my moment of challenge. The knives were clanging plates and there were two or three different conversations happening around this table with the fat legs…
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