Time is Flying

"Don't blink," someone told me when my daughter was a precocious two-year-old. I didn't listen. Next month Meaghan will be 11.

Time is racing past me at speeds Captain Kirk only dreamed of. And now I understand why some folks leave up their Christmas lights year round. Why take them down in January when you only have to put them back up a few weeks later?

Of course, the past 40 years since I graduated high school have been gaining momentum the past decade. And this July we'll celebrate the milestone with a look backward and forward.

We'll take a walk down memory lane when we meet Friday night, July 10 at The Streamliner. We'll listen to some oldies but goodies and shake hands and hug a few of them, too. We'll chat about where we've been and what we've done since we last saw one another. But I think I'm just as eager to hear about what my friends' plans are for the future: where they want to go, what they want to see, what they hope to do.

As for dreams, I have a few of my own that I hope will come true. My wife Rosemary and I have lunched our new business. She hopes we'll recoup our investment. I hope our profits will fund our daughter's wedding (in about 15 years), and in the meantime help us become debt-free so we can travel. But win, lose, or draw, I want to love now. (BTW, that's not a typo. That second heart attack that killed me, left an indelible impression.)

So while time keeps on slippin' slippin', slippin' into the future, I'm learning to enjoy every day. Because contentment isn't something I'll find tomorrow.