Each of us marks time in our own way. Days can drag on and decades can fly by. As of today (8/29), we’ve been in our house 25 years! We were both in our early thirties when we moved in the day Merri’s mom turned 60, just a few years older than we are now. It’s one thing to look at someone who was the age I am now but is so much older: it reminds me that a lot can happen in the next 25 years, should I live so long. It’s another thing to see our friend, Maddy Mullany, head off to college. I think about what my heading off to college must have felt like for my parents and their friends – was it like this? Did they look at me and think of how much they had lived since they were the age I was then, the age Maddy is now. Do the young remind the old of their own youth or of the years since? I’m thinking about being 18, about being 39 (as I was when Maddy was born – she attended my 40th birthday in Chaco), about being 60, 85. I’m always thinking about being gone forever. That’s not morbid, although it saddens me. Everywhere I look sends me time traveling.

One theory of time is that all time happens / is happening at once. Perhaps we are all proof of that: the world is born and dying every second.  Live now, while you can.