Thank you to whoever is in charge of the Time Change! I don’t know who you are, but it’s such a great thing in the fall. Spring, not so much, as we “lose” an hour. Would “falling back” twice a year actually throw the earth off its axis, or totally mess up the equilibrium of all things? Yes, I know it has to do with daylight. Perhaps you’ve heard, President Medvedev has announced that Russia will not come off daylight saving time beginning this autumn. He believes switching clocks twice a year is harmful for people’s health and triggers stress.
So much is said about time.
“Time is money.”
“Time heals all wounds.”
“There’s a time for every season.”
“I hope you had the time of your life.”
“Too much time on your hands.”
We’re at the point in our family where time races by. A decision about which high school our daughter should attend. Then helping our son choose where to go to college and how to obtain scholarships. One day a long time ago, elementary school seemed like it would take an eternity.
Now my son is beyond my piano capabilities and has mastered two other instruments, plus is taking AP Music Theory and enjoying it. He will soon be taking music classes taught by people with doctorates (actually, I think he already is). He was once the privileged 4th grader who was allowed to play the pipe organ at the Singletary Center on a class field trip. Now he’s the high school drum line section leader and can lead worship. My daughter, who it seems just last week was a chubby little person, now is thin and lovely and shared a pizza a few weeks back with a fellow vegetarian, Hindu classmate, plus said grace over the pizza in front of her peers (yes, in public school). When did they become these people?
We can hold theological discussions with them. Yet we still have to drive them wherever they need to go. One of them listens to Adele songs over and over and over. The other prefers vinyl to cd.
And I realize, more and more each day, that time remaining can now be measured. There are 119 days left in this school year. Then there’s one school year left for our
boy young man before college. After 119 days, our sweet daughter will be looking at four years of high school, then off to higher education.
There are 3 middle school band concerts left, with a few jazz concerts thrown in. There are some major tests to take, some pomp and circumstance, still more lunches to pack than I care to count, a few places to visit – just the four of us, before BOOM! it’s time to say good-bye number one. Which won’t be a forever good-bye. But it won’t be a “see you when you get off the school bus” kind of good-bye.
So attending a UK football game means remembering to create a memory. Watching home movies circa 2001 make me realize that 10 years fly [really.really.quickly], and our little people aren’t so little anymore.
Our son is on a high school band trip this weekend. So, my husband is blessed with two females in the house. We watched “The Last Song” Friday night. It’s a taste of what it’ll be like when Jamie heads to college. Which will be soon. And it’s hard to grasp.
A few people I know have recently had babies. I look at their photos and think, “You don’t realize it, but next thing you know, your sweet baby will be taking the PSAT.”
The best piece of advice I ever received regarding parenting is this:
“You only get 18 summers.”
It’s not hard to count how many I have left. A smattering of holidays, a few birthdays, lessons in doing your own laundry. And the race will be over. The 18 summers will be in the rear view mirror.
I look forward to seeing who these two, once little people, turn out to be. And meantime, I getting teary eyed, thinking of it. And I realize, I must.must.must rejoice and be thankful for each day.