In his post, How Not to Kill Time, Hugh got me to thinking about our perception of time and how that changes with…well, time.
Hugh uses the analogy of a toilet roll, the nearer you get to the end, the quicker it runs out. With more years behind me than in front of me, I find that to be true. Summer afternoons that used to last forever are a blur now. Days bleed into each other until I find myself asking Google for the date because I’ve lost track of what month it is.
I spent my youth wishing time would move faster, waiting for the next holiday or birthday. I wanted to kick time into high gear when my kids were little, longing to be me again and not mom.
Now, when my kids have kids of their own and I can see my end date looming on the horizon, I want to slow time down. I want to stop it altogether. So many lives I haven’t lived while I was busy living mine. So many things I haven’t done …
I can’t stop time, of course. None of us can. The best we can do is treasure the moments. Sunshine on water, or trickling through the leaves of a tree. A hand holding yours. Shared laughter. A smile.
I’m way too lazy to have a dog. I like my creature comforts and they don’t include early morning winter walks with four legged pals. We won’t even talk about the filling that little bag part of the tour—no, thanks.
My daughter’s dog though, love him. All the furry hugs I want and no little bags 🙂
The best thing about dogs? Totally non-judgmental. All those personal quirks, the ones that make the people in your life crazy? Your dog doesn’t care. He likes you anyway.
As sad as it is to see a whiskered face watching from the window as you leave the house, I don’t think pets have to accompany their owners everywhere. Gary Mullins of Halifax, N.S. is much nicer than I am; he takes his beagle, Frankie on bike rides around town—in a backpack.