Twenty
years…where’d they go?
Twenty years…I
don’t know.
I sit and I
wonder some times
Where they’ve
gone.
--Bob Seger
October is my favorite month of the year, for a
variety of reasons. The oppressive heat
and humidity of summer is a fading memory.
The sky has become a dome of pure cobalt blue. And all around, the
green of the forest is being overtaken by the vivid reds and brilliant golds of
that annual show of artistry that is autumn.
I sometimes think I merely endure the other eleven months just to get to
those 31 remarkable days
It was last November 1st, and I was out
running, chugging up that exasperatingly long hill that is Cedar Lane, when I
realized with a bit of a shock that October had ended. I remember feeling how unfair it was that
something so anticipated and so enjoyed could arrive and disappear almost
before it seemed I'd had a chance to look around, or even draw an appreciative
breath. Part of that, I know, is the
perspective of age. The older we get,
the faster time seems to pass. Unless
you’re getting a root canal.
We can get so caught up in the “have-to-do’s” and
“gotta be there’s” that crowd our schedules, regretting the past, fearing the future, that we can become completely
oblivious to those marvelous moments of the “now.” Those moments can appear in several ways.
You can be hanging with your best bud, laughing and having a great time, when suddenly you realize that you’re experiencing that perfect moment of friendship.
To hear that joyously uninhibited sound of a good old-fashioned belly laugh coming from a child who will never again be that cute. Or that young.
Looking across the room at the love of your life and getting a smile in return. Not just any smile, but that special one; the one they save only for you.
To walk beneath a Maple tree on a perfect fall afternoon at the same moment the wind passes through the limbs and showers you with leaves of gold. A private, very personal ticker-tape parade pronouncing that life...your life...is worth celebrating.
You can be hanging with your best bud, laughing and having a great time, when suddenly you realize that you’re experiencing that perfect moment of friendship.
To hear that joyously uninhibited sound of a good old-fashioned belly laugh coming from a child who will never again be that cute. Or that young.
Looking across the room at the love of your life and getting a smile in return. Not just any smile, but that special one; the one they save only for you.
To walk beneath a Maple tree on a perfect fall afternoon at the same moment the wind passes through the limbs and showers you with leaves of gold. A private, very personal ticker-tape parade pronouncing that life...your life...is worth celebrating.
These moments are ephemeral; filaments, really. But these are the filaments that when woven
together form the richly beautiful tapestry that tells the story of life.