Time keeps on slipping into the future…and memory keeps on slipping into the past, the more and more distant past. It’s an odd phenomenon that has become even weirder because I observe it in myself and Tim. When did we become our parents?
Weeks fly by. Really, they do. Childhood hours spent tromping through the woods with my best friend Amy are as clear as – okay, sometimes clearer than – last weekend.
Of course there are the biggies, those life-changing moments that remain intact, in Technicolor and 3-D with surround-sound. October 22 marks the fourth anniversary of the loss of our house and things in a wildfire. We’ll “celebrate” in what is becoming tradition: dinner at our friends’ house (not lost in the fire) in the community where it happened. Dave and Peggy evacuated that day and met up with us on the coast; we spent several days together with two of their children and their dog before being allowed back into the neighborhood.
Four years is better than three. There’s more space in between, more distance. More interior detritus has been processed, freeing up emotions to now engage in fields of good.
So . . . in this jumble of past meets future in the blink of an eye, I am reminded of what is most important, most lasting: this moment.
OTHER STUFF: Isn’t ‘detritus’ a fun word? I’ve wanted to use it for ever so long. I didn’t even know how to pronounce it until now. (The ‘i’ is long and the syllable ‘tri’ accented.) Its effect is much nicer in print than its synonym, ‘crap.’
A new baby girl John was born this week to our nephew and his wife. Yay! Births are big deals to us old folks, even long-distance ones. Can you imagine? I saw a cell phone photo of her within minutes of her appearance.
I remember – I use that phrase a lot, by the way – I remember the role of aunts (my own and the in-law ones) in my life. They seemed to have a license to invade: they made me laugh, they hired me to babysit, they gave me gifts, they spoke their minds, they prayed for me. The words ‘immunity’ and ‘unconditional’ come to mind. =)
Photo: This was taken in our backyard, after the fire. The wooden angel bird feeder escaped injury (as did two Isabel Bloom angels and a marble plaque that had three crosses carved into it).