The young sales clerk appeared to be full of sparkly energy. As I paid for my purchase she lowered her voice and said, “I can’t wait for this day to be over.” Taken aback by the inconsistency between her actions and mood, I asked if she had been having a bad day. “It hasn’t been one of my better ones.” I wished her an improved evening and left the store. Her words haunted me as I drove home, however, and I tried to figure out why.
Several of my friends are living with uncertain health futures. Each day of health, family, and hope are precious. Would they wish away the moment? I thought about my dad struggling with his stroke symptoms. He’s not able to live the way he wants to live, and even simple tasks take much longer than in the past. What does time mean to him? Then I thought about how many times I’ve wished for the weekend to come because of some event, all the while ignoring the everyday events of Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday.
Dan Fogelberg has a song I dearly love called Windows and Walls. Here are the lyrics:
Up every morning
Long before day
Cooking her breakfast alone
She quietly dresses
And pulls up the shades
And sits in the chair by
the phone.
But nobody ever comes
by anymore
Nobody ever calls
Most days she sits and
just stares
At the windows and walls
Windows and walls.
Children all married
Husband’s passed on
Nothing but time on her hands
Most of her mornings
Are spent in her dreams
Or making her sad little plans.
Maybe she’ll go to the
corner today
And pick up the new McCalls
If just to escape for an hour
From her windows and walls
Windows and walls.
The clock on the mantel
Chiming the hours
Must be the loneliest sound
She washes her dishes
and waters her flowers
And afterwards has to sit down.
Sometimes she still can
remember a child
Playing with china dolls…
Now all that she’s left
Are these memories and
windows and walls
Windows and walls
(day after day)
Windows and walls.
Maybe that’s what is troubling me. Time is unaffected by human wants and conditions. It ticks away consistently in forward increments. Tick, tick, tick. We are all given twenty four hours a day, but how many days will we collect in a lifetime? The sales clerk’s statement shook me because she is young and time seems endless. At my age, time seems more finite. I’m thankful for the reminder to celebrate the Mondays as well as the Fridays. I learned something today, and it was about time.
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