August 14th, 2012

Time is at once the most valuable and the 

most perishable of all our possessions

John Randolph

These words precede the first chapter of Anna Quindlen's book

'Lots of Candles and Plenty of Cake'

which I have borrowed on a seven day loan from the library

and which I am going to plunge into - as soon as I have dealt with my

thoughts about this little quotation about Time, that mysterious quality which wanders through our lives 

at random paces, sometimes carrying us breathless through adventures and exciting times;

sometimes carrying us along peacefully through quiet pools and serene waters,

and sometimes just disappearing behind us, falling down the memory hole, so that 

when we look back it is hard to remember the ordinary days 

that have made up so much of our lives.

Last evening I had a lovely telephone chat with one of my bridesmaids.

We have been the best of friends for over seventy years, although life has taken us along

entirely different paths, and the time when we bonded as 'kindred spirits' in the early '40's

was such a small percentage of that seventy years.  But it was a Time of change and adventure,

and the days and months and years that we shared then, as friends,

worrying and waiting for our fiancees to return from the war were so intense that

they are imprinted with fondness and friendship forever.

And I know it was that way for Charles and his crew, as well.  They became closer

than brothers in the comparatively short while they were together, when their experiences

were so dangerous and all consuming that Time for them must have been always on the qui vie

and their dependence upon each other created a life-long bond.

But apart from these kind of situations what do we remember?

Sometimes the most simple and mundane moments.  I remember sitting on

the sidewalk at the front of our house with the Cooper boys, while our mothers

were having tea, discussing which were better, - apples, oranges or bananas.

This when I was four years old.  

And why would I remember that particular microcosm of Time when I have forgotten far more

important things that have slipped away down that devilish Memory Hole.

When life was a kaleidoscopic and all the children were still at home

I used to lie in bed at night before going to sleep, calculating time, and how much of it

was left to me.  When I was thirty I could figure on maybe another fifty years, judging on how

kind Time had been to my grandparents.  Wonderful, I would think, - I am only 3/8's of the

way through this marvelous life and I would turn over and go to sleep, comforted.

Even when I was sixty I could figure on having another twenty years!!!

And now that I am eighty-seven and Time is slipping and sliding so quickly,  I have still such great

enthusiasm to fill it to the brim, and am optimistic enough to have stretched the track

that reaches ahead to the Station to the Hereafter at least another ten years away.

But sometimes I am realistic enough to know that Time is a Trickster and life is tenuous,

so the answer is to wake up smiling and try to live with grace and patience

day by day.......