Today is my sister’s birthday. One of my sisters, at least. She was born four years before me. Number six in the line of siblings.
Her name is Julie, and I’m glad for the day she was born. Growing up, especially in the early years, we played together a lot. Of course, I was always the minion. I’d always get the second pick. She was eight. I was four. What else could be expected?
Like if we were playing Batman and Robin? Guess who always had to be Robin. Or when we play all the Superheroes together, collectively? She always got to pick which superhero she got to be, and then it was my choice. It worked out okay. She’d always choose Spiderman, so I would finally have my go at Batman.
We grew up to be the big jocks in the family too. While I was at Butler University playing softball, she was at Indiana University playing basketball. She took a two-year time out after high school, which allowed for us to have this brief overlap. We made a lot of road trips. We worked our butts off, but we also had a lot of fun.
Anyway. I’m grateful to have her in my life. She has been full of wise words, good laughs, and soft shoulders. More than my sister, she is my friend.
We came from a big bunch. And. I have to say. I have a good family. My siblings are all uniquely wonderful. All have great characteristics. We won the lottery when it came to parents, and for that, I am grateful too. I can’t imagine growing up anywhere else than at 134 E. Bruce Avenue with my beautiful, sometimes twisty-turny family.
Mom and Dad are gone now. For quite some time.
The thing that strikes me about all of this is the passing of time. It seems like only yesterday when we were sitting around the kitchen table eating tuna noodle casserole with peas. Or salmon patties and fried potatoes. We had a lot of Catholic fish Fridays, I’ll tell you. Those memories are priceless. But the time. Where did it go?
The expression “time flies” originates from the Latin phrase “tempus fugit.” It is a phrase that we all find ourselves saying or thinking. And the older we get, the faster it goes.
You know? It’s a powerful, sobering revelation.
But when we were kids, it wasn’t like this at all, was it? I remember how each year seemed to pass slowly. Like fourth grade with Sister Eunice and Miss Heid. And the waiting time for Christmas was excruciating.
This perception of time moving at a slow, slow pace in childhood and then quickening as we become adults is a common experience. There have been studies about this. I Googled them.
As several people point out, this perception of “time moving faster as we age” may be due to a few factors. But the main thing? When we’re children, a year of life amounts to much more time of existence, percentage-wise. For a 10-year-old, one year is 10 percent of their life. But for a 60-year-old, one year is less than two percent of their lives. Zippity Doo Dah.
So, on a day of remembering birthdays and occasions of the past, I am once again reminded of the passing of time.
And with that? Since reading this post, another two minutes and thirty eight seconds of your life have passed.
Sorry.
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“This is a wonderful day. I have never seen this one before.”
– Maya Angelou
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“How did it get so late so soon. It’s night before it’s afternoon. December before it’s June. My goodness, how the time has flewn. How did it get so late so soon?”
– Dr. Seuss
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“Time is an illusion.”
– Albert Einstein
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The good time. And how it goes.
