Has it really been fifteen years? I can close my eyes and still picture the TV in front of me as I stare at the towers, watching the plane hit, watching buildings collapse. And as the news is reminding us all what happened on that fateful day, they also remind us it’s been fifteen years.
My eldest turns thirty-five this year. Mitchel died six years ago. I turn sixty-one in a couple of months.
WHERE THE *&!)^ has time gone????
I wish I could say I’ve been so busy living that I haven’t noticed the time. You know, the old adage – “Time flies when you’re having fun”. Unfortunately, that’s not the case. I have not been having fun at any stretch of the imagination. I have been struggling, fighting, cursing, crying – working just to stay alive and stay a little ahead of the bills.
“Well”, I hear you say, “that’s life.”
No – that is unacceptable. Who says “that’s life”? Who decided life is nothing more than mere existence; day-to-day survival tactics. Yes, I have survived. Yes, I am still alive and that is an accomplishment of which I can have pride. BUT THAT IS NOT ENOUGH.
I’m reminded of water in the sink when I open the drain. I start life on the outside, along the security of the rising wall that surrounds my “pool” of life. But as time passes, and I move around this great circle, I also move more towards the center. Towards “adulthood”. At that early age I can’t perceive the truth of the matter, that my circles are growing smaller.
And time passes. I get older and suddenly I notice things are different. That great wall of security is far from me now. The water rushes in an ever-tighter circle. And more than that – it moves faster. As I near that vortex my speed increases and I begin to sense the power of the thing. I can hear the roar of my own death as it grows closer. I dip my hands in the swell and try to paddle myself away, but to no avail. There is no escaping this current. It has held me since birth, and it has no intention of releasing me now.
|Looking too close now. The swirls, they don’t move all the way around. The closer you get to the undertow, the more direct the swells become until they only move two-thirds of the way around. If you escape those, the next only go half-way. And beyond them … a direct flow into the vortex of death.|
If I am ever to “live” … it needs to start now. Not “soon”, not “tomorrow”, not even “this afternoon”. Now.
My heart knows this. My mind has already decided it’s too late. If ever I’ve had a personal battle on my hands, this is the time for action.