In my 70th year I finally get the age thing. I haven’t accepted it yet, but the concept is beginning to make sense. What happened, and where did the time go? Please, don’t answer.
Riding a bicycle and being around them for so long has pushed so many truths into the margins, leaving only one lie; that this wonderful life is eternal. Forever young. Hah.
I don’t cling to much. But I do save memories. Some are like touchstones. Many make me smile. All of them can get in the way if I let them. Lately I’ve let them get in the way.
I’m constantly thinking of baseball. Because we stand in the box and wait. And have an idea how to advance the runners. So we look for that pitch that has our name on it.
If we’re lucky, or smart, we can stop time. Or foolishly think we can. Maybe we take whatever is thrown at us and deal with it. Eventually it’s someone else’s turn at bat.
The passing of time is slow, almost nonexistent, until it isn’t. That’s what I’m realizing these days. All this while simultaneously reminiscing and letting go. Lots to let go of.
All This By Hand
.
