Time Flies

Time slips away from us as it moves at it's fast pace. I have been thinking about the time in my life a lot lately. Looking back over the years, I wonder where time goes? Our memories of loved one's help us to preserve time. We cannot go back, we can not save it.

Time is defined in many ways depending on how you use it in a sentence. In this instance, time can be described as ones lifetime. Time is a non spatial continuum, in which events occur in apparent irreversible succession from the past through the present to the future. As the clock ticks off minutes, hours and days, we may not have finished what we are doing or what we want to do, but the clock keeps ticking leaving us with less time. Time is irreplaceable and it cannot be saved.

Growing up it seemed as if time stopped. Would we ever reach sixteen, eighteen, twenty one? Time just did not pass fast enough. We thought time would never pass for us to reach the age of twenty one. By the time we reach our fifties, we are thinking that time is going much to fast. As we grow older, time picks up the pace. We hear phrases like "The time just flew today", or "I wish there was more time". We look back on our memories and what is known as the "good old days" and wonder where the time has gone. Time is the most valuable resource that we have.

Remembering those "good old days", my grandparents lived a block from my parents house and growing up, I spent a lot of time there. After my Grandfather retired, both of them stitched hand made quilts using the old quilting frames they kept set up in the dining room. They gave them to children and grandchildren. Grandma used to say "we do it to pass the time". They also spent many hours in the front porch swing. They would talk about what their lives were like raising their family in times gone by. My Grandfather owned a gasoline jobber business. The boys in the family helped out there, while the girls helped in the house and with the growing of vegetables and fruits to feed their family. We heard stories about not having a road in front of their house when they built it and then a mud and gravel road before paving. There was no or little money and things were bartered or traded. During the war, gasoline was one of the things that was rationed and Grandpa would save his ration stamps for my Dad. He lived in the big city and for him to come home on weekends, Grandpa would give him the stamps. I remember the smell of the blooming sweet peas growing on the fence in the back yard. I remember the fresh baked cookies always available in their cookie jar. Memories remain as if time stood still. As my Grandparents grew older, when we were ending our visit, we would say "we will see you next time". Grandma would respond with "Well, I hope so.Grandma knew they might not be there to see us next time. My grandparents have both been gone several years, but I will always cherish the memories and the time I spent with my grandparents. Where did the time go?

Now, I am telling stories of the "good old days" to my grandchildren. My parents, the years of my growing up, marrying and raising a family, are just some of the things we talk about. My mind and spirit are still young and vibrant, however, my body tells me these 70 years of my time have been well used and how quickly time does fly. In a span of 70 years there are 25,550 days, 613,000 hours, 36,792,000 minutes and 2,207,520,000 seconds. Did I use this time wisely? We can't go back and get that time. Did I accomplish everything that was meant for me to do? How will I pass the time for the rest of my years? Will my grandchildren cherish the time I spent with them? I certainly hope so.

In a time for taking stock of ones life, time can be defined as a suitable or opportune moment or season. I have had many moments of opportune moments or seasons. As I look back in time, re-living those memories of past times, can we really determine if time flies? Where did it go? Each of us has the same twenty four hours of a day. The days may go by slowly, but the years really do seem to fly.

Reference: Wikipedia

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