As I’ve grown older, it seems as if life always gets in the way of things. I make plans but plans change. I tell myself, “I’ll do it tomorrow.”
Next thing I know, tomorrow passes and days add into weeks. Then weeks turn into months. In a blink of an eye, time passes, and I wonder how a year can move by so quickly.
I once saw a documentary about time in relation to size. Take a mosquito, for example. A mosquito has a lifespan of 24hrs. To you and me, that’s only one day—but to the mosquito; that 24 hours is a lifetime.
If we are lucky, a lifetime consists of birth, infancy, toddler years, teenage life, followed by young adulthood, adulthood, and then comes the twilight. Our relation to time is very different throughout each of these stages.
Back when I was little, I remember a year was such a long time. A day in school was long. An hour seemed like ten, and a week was like a month.
Time moved slower when I was smaller. Or maybe my concerns for time were less. Nothing was too urgent. I suppose I had enough hours in the day. Maybe when life only consists of say, naptime and snacks; life has no hinges. There were no deadlines when I was a kid
As I grew in size, my relation to time grew differently. One day was not as long anymore. As I aged, I had more responsibility, and more pieces fit into a 24hr time period. Meanwhile, to a mosquito, 24hrs is an entire lifespan.
As I grew in size, I also grew in responsibilty. There was more to my schedule and more to the weight on my shoulders. A day was less likely to slip by me as a boy in my childhood. Then comes adulthood; weeks slip by quickly and time becomes this thing that slip through our fingers
I was thinking about phone calls this morning. Phone calls are an important part of life. It is rare that we go an entire day without speaking to someone on the phone. This does not mean all phone calls are good ones. Some calls are personal and some are business. Some calls are important and some are annoying.
We call to catch up so that while we live in the world of adulthood, we can keep in touch and stay in each other’s life.
Sometimes I forget to call people back. Sometimes the reason is as simple as life gets in the way. Next thing I know, days become weeks, and weeks become months. Somehow a year passes and we wonder where the time went.
One year . . .
One year has passed by and the phone still won’t ring where you live now.
I was thinking about the phone calls between us. And no, not all of them were good ones. I was thinking about the times I said, “I’ll call her back tomorrow,” but tomorrow bled into the next day.
I was thinking about the conversations with hospitals, doctors, and nurses.
I admit it; I was frustrated. And there were times when I said, “I’ll just call her back tomorrow.”
Eventually, tomorrow never came.
Today is May 5th. I usually called you early in this morning. This used to be the day we bought you a plane ticket to come up for a visit. That seems so long ago now. It feels like you left us in another lifetime.
Time in relation to size is a strange and remarkable thing. We are all so small down here on Earth. Maybe that’s why it feels like I haven’t seen you in so long.
Eventually, we all outgrow this shell we call life
Eventually, we all grow into the size of our spirit, which means when I see you again, I will have grown enough to understand the time in between us will have passed in the blink of an eye.
For now though . . .
For now, I’m just a son that misses his Mother.
I’m just a son that wishes he called more often. I wish I was more patient.
I wish our last phone conversation was better and I wish I said, “I love you,” instead of “I’ll call you tomorrow.” because tomorrow never came
For now, I’m still so very small.
I am small (perhaps no bigger than a mosquito) and time in relation to my size moves a lot slower than it does in your world.
I suppose that’s because you are timeless now and there is nothing so big or as powerful as a mother’s love.
Happy Birthday, Mom
We miss you
I’ll end this note here, but I’ll end it the same way I ended all of our phone calls.
I love you and I’ll tall to you tomorrow. . .