Sunday, February 21, 2010

An Open Letter to Time

Dear Time,

Please slow down.

I know, in the past, that I have asked the exact opposite of you. When I was 12 I begged you to speed up and get me through junior high. I made a similar request when I was 15 and thought high school would never end. In college I asked again, so sure that if you didn't move faster I wouldn't make it out alive.

I think it was around the age of 21 that you finally took my pleas for speed seriously. And I have willingly let you whip through the past 15 years, even helping you along in my early 20's with large quantities of wine, and days spent more asleep than awake. When I noticed thing were moving so fast, about six years ago, I didn't complain, even though I felt it unfair that the time I was spending with the love of my life felt more fleeting than the times I had spent wondering when I would finally find him. I figured it was par for the course, and that things would slow down again eventually.

So, now I would like it to do just that.

My daughter is now seven months old. Tonight she is sleeping in her crib, in her own room, for the first time. I would keep her in the bassinet in our room a bit longer, but to do that we would have to cut holes in the end for her legs to stick through. It seems like only yesterday she was a little potato, sleeping on my chest, waking only to eat and look around, wondering where the hell she was. It isn't that I don't like watching her grow, and don't look forward to the changes ahead, it's just I don't feel like I am getting time to savor everything. I want to feel like I have embedded every stage on my soul, not like I just caught a glimpse as it roared by.

And it isn't just Meg. I want more quality time with my parents. Why did you move so slowly when we were at odds? When I couldn't wait to get out of the house? Why now, that I appreciate them, and want to spend time with them does time seem fleeting? I mean, fleeting to the point that at night I sometimes panic, thinking I should drive out and climb into bed with my Mom and just hug her. Or wake my Dad and tell him dumb jokes.

Yeah, Time, it would be great if your speed didn't make me crazier too...

So, here's my proposal: you slow down, and I will never again ask for you to speed up. Not even on weeks when I can feel my fingernails growing, and swear the clock is moving backwards. I will never again use the phrase "TGIF," even when Friday feels like years from Monday. I will appreciate every minute, and accept each one as a gift.

Deal?

Thanks,

Libby

9 comments:

LB @Wait, She Said What? said...

Ditto.

Cindy said...

: )

msprimadonna67 said...

It seems like just yesterday, my oldest beautiful baby was moving from her bassinet to her crib. Now she's a beautiful young lady of sixteen-going-on seventeen. Each day seems to go by more quickly than the one before. If time heeds your plea, let me know....

Kelly said...

I've made this same pledge, I don't know how many times, and yet my big girl is still about to graduate from high school and go on to college, and my small one is going to start preschool next year. It's just not fair.

Heather said...

I pick up by baby boy last night to carry him to bed. I can't figure out why his feet dangled down by my knees.

Kim said...

There was a time when I thought I would live to 100, because that was my God given right as an Asian. That and great skin. Now, just because of a sedentary lifestyle and poor diet (geesh), my mortality looms before me every time I hear of someone passing at the age of 55 or so. Oh, and my skin looks like shit now. Fucking asshole Time.

Maureen@IslandRoar said...

Yes, the older we get, the faster it goes. Now, at 48, when I hope I've got at least another 40 plus years left, I try and see grace in every day. And that definitely gets easier as we age.
Big step, that sleeping in the crib. Enjoy...

Aunt Juicebox said...

Sigh.

calicobebop said...

Yeah, I'd like to get in on that deal if I can too! Where does it all go?