I have a would-be PostIt on the desktop of my computer. Its yellow corners hold important dates & times, keeping me on a schedule. I’ve typed in & deleted dates as they’ve come & gone for months now. Time, it seems, has floated past – barely giving me a moment to blink.
Housed in the months to come are weddings and showers, anniversaries and birthdays – with perhaps an occasional, impromptu down time; still moment. School, which came to a close just a few weeks ago, taunts me with the knowledge that I’ll be back in its halls in mere weeks. Gabe’s birthday is in August; he’ll be two. It doesn’t seem possible that my once small, seemingly helpless newborn is now a headstrong, independent toddler. Abi, my niece, will be one just a couple of days after Gabe is two. They’re shooting up before our eyes, and with their increasing age they’re taking time.
I remember at one point in my life time crept by and summers stood still. Now, my days are squandered, leaving me with a mile long list of to do’s and a nagging PostIt – reminding my of how short time really is.