It used to be that only during the winter holidays would I occasionally get melancholy over the passage of time. Some thing to do with the traditions of my childhood intermixing with my new traditions for my family; some thing to do with my actually becoming a year older; some thing to do with seeing my son (and now my daughter) grow up before the presents and carols and candle lights and memories flooding me.
However, it’s the middle of summer. And I am feeling melancholy again. And I can rationalize why. We just had a whirlwind the past month and ½ of the school year ending (a big one too, as it was Michael’s last grade school year); then right into a friend coming up for a visit; vacation on the Cape; then our traditional Fourth of July festivities; and my mother visiting. In a way we are all going to be happy to get back into more routine schedules in the next few days/weeks. But it is also time gone by. Some of the things I look forward to about the summer have already gone by.
But it is more than that. Having people visit reminds me of the passage of time. To see old friends, who, like I am, are getting older. To realize the age of people and places and things long forgotten and memories dug up to reminisce.
That time keeps moving along and while my memories sometimes want to stand still—more memories are being made and we all run to the cameras to capture them. But that is only fleeting too. I have memories on film and yet they do not always bring me the soft breeze on a summer afternoon, the salt on my lips, the ocean in my ears.
I wrote this a few days ago, wanted to finish it up and post--but time has done that other thing it does to me--become to busy to finish my thoughts, deep and melodramatic as they are...ah, well...back to the daily thoughts, half-thoughts and whimsys of daily life!
A less jumbled post tomorrow, I think...