Time heals all wounds
Good things take time
Sometimes your heart needs more time
Well, you know what I think time is? time is an ass hole. Time makes you look back and look forward. Time makes you regretful and anxious. Time gives you longing. Time creates holes and feeds pain. Time isn’t a friend its a foe. Time is something to fight not to look to for healing.
we do not have all the time in the world
we do not need time to see
the time we have spent is not enough.
Time. Its always about time. Everything seems like it revolves around TIME.
As the two year anniversary approaches (seriously, does anyone have a different word to describe the death date re-occurrence. Please. Anniversary has such a positive connotation and I would really like to keep it that way- i digress) my thoughts turn to time. But time is no longer something I want to use as a tool of measurement for anything other than cooking raw meat and baking cakes. Just like Lilee’s life, I don’t want time to determine worth. I don’t want time to determine importance. I don’t want time to be the judge of who, what and where. I dont want time to be the deciding factor in wisdom. I dont want time spent to be way I see quality.
Time is a constant. It’s inevitable. If we continue to focus on time we lose what this moment could be, sometimes losing the importance of moments past and we are so troubled over how to spend the time we still have that we are manifesting those troubled thoughts into our future. Time will always hurl you forward, we have no say in that, but in each ticking second we have a choice. Do we watch a clock on the wall and grow weary with every minute that passes? Do we buy calendars from years past and look back at all the days we have lived with longing and mourning. Do we think of days to come and pour over what might be, what will never be or what has to be for the rest of our days? Or do we sit here, still, in this moment and breathe, and feel. We must silence our minds to hear our hearts. We must quit this rat race to feed our souls. But its not that easy. Its not easy for us to look at time as relative; as constant as the sun or the moon or the stars or the air. instead we look at it as something to judge our lives by.
Time tells me its been almost 2 years since I held my daughter. My being tells me it was yesterday and a lifetime ago too.
I have been so obsessed with time. 2 years. 2 whole fucking years. What am I going to do? What’s going to make me feel better? Closer to her? Like I can breath? Like i’m not constantly suffocating? 2 Years. and I have to plan this day for the rest of my life? The. Rest. Of. My. Life. In 10 months from now she will have been dead as long as she was alive, and then each moment after that I will have had to endure the pain of missing her longer than I had the privilege of witnessing her life. But I booked a trip to the ocean and have been trying to put it out of my mind for as long as I can. Not her, not her death, not the pain, not the love, just the time. How long its been, how long it will be. Time can no longer be a too of measurement because eventually time will completely and irreparably destroy me.