I said I would update, with a decidedly non-shitty post, “soon.”
But time is a funny thing, isn’t it? That fact has been elbowing me real hard lately, trying to get me to take notice, and I guess it worked. This is me taking notice.
It’s been 11 months and 9 days since I totaled my car – which might be part of the reason I didn’t post here, now that I think about it. That year feels almost like it didn’t happen. When I look at the accident, boy, it feels like yesterday. But it also doesn’t.
Time is a funny thing.
It’s been ten days since I found out our family dog passed away. I left to return to college a week before they took her to the vet. I knew it was probably our last year with her, but I didn’t know January 6th was my last day. And I try to tell myself, even if I didn’t get a “final” goodbye, that I said goodbye to her hundreds of times over the years. But time is funny, and one missed day distracts me from the 4,875 she was with us.
It’s been 6,755 days since I met my little sister – that’s 18 years, 5 months, and 28 days for those of us with no sense of thousands of days. First of all, it almost disturbs me how close that number is to our old dog’s. Second, she’s headed to school who-knows-where-yet for the creative degree I never had the guts to pursue, and she’s wise, and when did she get so old?
It’s been more than 25,000 days for each of my grandparents on this Earth. I’ve been there for only 7,749 of those. That’s not even a third! And yet they’ve always been willing to drop everything to help me out.
So if time is so… unreliable, so inconsistent, why do we use it to measure everything? Why should we worry if we take too long to find love, leave grief behind too quickly, waste an hour or two, when in the next moment it’ll seem like the reason for the worry died centuries ago?
Time is a funny thing, so let’s laugh at it more often.