Being a parent forces you to constantly be aware of the passage of time. Your life runs to the rhythm of school years and holidays and sports seasons and annual checkups. Parents feel it, and kids feel it too.
I saw the big orange envelope emerge from the mailbox. She let out a big yell and began to run back to the house and into the kitchen carrying the orange package. I knew this image would become part of so many others in my mind, that not even the passage of time would erase it.
What is this about? Is it stubborn denial? Do we all still think of ourselves as 18? The aches in my back, weakness in my knee and wrinkles on my face all speak to my actual age. As do the, you know, children. And yet. And still.
Have you ever had the this experience? Your phone rings, a friend says "Let's meet for drinks." You say: "I'll be there in 15 minutes." Then, when you show up, your friend is half drunk and slurring "WTF? You said 15 minutes... That was nearly an hour ago."