I was going to write something profound about time. I have been thinking about time lately. I Goggled "songs about time" and found hundreds, if not more.
I guess what started me thinking about time was, going for a drive with Nick. We were driving on a road we have driven on countless times. We were taking about how it had changed- "remember when that was there" sort of thing. I felt for a fleeting moment (there's that time thing again) like I was in the Time Machine. I saw things as they had been and as they are and wondered what they will be next time I go past. Or again in ten years.
I am sure most people ponder the passing of time. How we change in appearance and ability. Who hasn't said, or thought at least that they would love to be 18 again. We are not 18. But why? Where did 18 go? Where did all of the days and ages go? Why do we change so much that we are, many of us, hardly recognizable after 20, 30, 40 or more years. What happens to the sweet suckling babies we cared for and loved so much.
Maybe what I am asking myself is this: why do *I* have to get old? So many of my friends and close family (my sister and my husband) are older than me, so are more aware that I am or that perpetual motion machine called age.
As I said, there are songs about time. Time in a Bottle, Those Were the Days my Friend. Cats in the Cradle, If I Could Turn Back Time, and on and on and on. Can't stop it. Can't reverse it. Can't control it. It is confoundingly "there". It just is.
And so, my hair is gray. I look on Facebook at pictures of friends I have known for years, 20 years and more, and see, much to my surprise, they have gray hair too. Oh no. How did that happen? How did they age so? I guess it just happens. My skin has lines and sags where I didn't even think about when I was much younger.
So where is this time machine taking me? Where is it taking us all?