LOOKING BACK
LOOKING BACK
Time passes so quickly — minuets, hours, days, months, years quickly pass. Sometimes we notice the passage of time, especially when a birthday occurs and we notice we have added another year to our age. My last birthday a friend mentioned that I would notice the passage of time, and she was right.
Driving to meet my friend the other day, I watched a person on cross country skies in a park, gliding through the snow. It brought back wonderful memories. What I didn’t want to remember was my age at the time — my mantra for that year was “life begins at forty.” I still have my skies, but I don’t know if I would have the courage to put them on. My body isn’t as flexible as it was then and my weight is up. I don’t look forward to putting on skies to play in the snow. To be honest, I don’t look forward to snow either.
Looking back I remember other activities that have fallen by the wayside. I used to paint in oils. I haven’t had them out in years but they are waiting for me. I have tried watercolor — not as successfully and acrylics. I haven’t invested the time needed to become proficient — of course unless the paintings were good enough to sell, I don’t have wall space to display them.
Looking back — I was also involved in storytelling. I was a member of a guild and regularly attended storytelling events. Although I still tell stories to people who cross my path that need them, I don’t see myself becoming a professional storyteller. Because of that realization, I have parted with many of the books of fables and stories that I had hoped to use. The stories I tell are personal, they travel with me — I keep them in my pocket — always available.
Looking back — I have two sewing machines that were often in motion. I haven’t had the desire to sew anything in a few years but I’m not ready to say I have stopped. I haven’t had either my knitting needles or crochet hook out either. I still have yarn but haven’t seen anything that has inspired me.
If I’m honest, I have to admit that more has changed in my body than just age, and my flexibility and weight. My fingers don’t have the ability to work with small items, my eyes need stronger glasses and more light. When I start counting the negative changes that age and extra weight have caused in my life, I either see a person whose body is giving them more challenges than mine — cane, wheelchair or motorized scooter or a story of someone’s health challenges crosses my path. Often, that person is much younger than myself.
Time passes so quickly — it will soon be the anniversary of my father’s birthday and his passing. More than 20 years have gone by and thankfully he and others on the other side are still a part of my life.