The clock on our screened-in porch.The wisdom acquired with the passage of time is a useless gift unless you share it.
~ Esther Williams
There they are before me. A large clock in the dining room, an even larger one in the living room, and a most gargantuan one on our porch. They always say, “the bigger the better.” I’m not sure if I believe that’s true.
I have a sort of fascination with clocks. I love having them around the house, but lately, I sometimes don’t enjoy having them staring me in the face all the time. They are a constant reminder that this very moment will never happen again. That each tick-tock of the clock means that another moment has passed, and while I know I’m getting wiser, I’m afraid to admit, I’m not getting any younger.
The clock in our dining/kitchen area.My kids are growing more mature daily. No longer are they little kids anymore. They are young adults–two teens who are finding their way in the world and solving their own problems step by step. When I arrive home through the door from work, however, I am happy that my daughter is still happy to see me, and my son always gives me a kiss. They are not growing too old for that. Additionally, I marvel at how quickly the time passes once I do come through the door — it feels as if the hours from about 4:30 p.m. to dinner whirl by; sometimes I can barely catch my breath before one teen needs to be driven here and one teen needs to be driven there. And, I am sure I am not alone when confronted with the mystifying truth that the weekends go by faster than any other day in the week.
I want time to stop. Just a little. Just for a few moments.
But it won’t.
There is no stopping time.
So…
I’ll enjoy my ridiculously huge clocks that remind me that this second will never come again.
The clock in our living room.
