I knew it would happen. Everyone told me so. Then they said it’d happen even faster when I had kids. They repeated their idiom when I had my 2nd child and even more so when my children started school. They were right: time really does fly. It speeds even. Hightails. You get the picture. As much as I expected it, it still surprised me.
Where did all that time go? How did I become a grown up? I honestly don’t feel old when I tell my age. What makes me feel old is verbalizing how long I’ve known someone. I maintain that I’m not old enough to have been married almost 16 years. And I swear that I’m not old enough to have known someone for more than 20 years. But I am, and I have. I can swear it as much as I want, but I HAVE been married for almost 16 years. And I do have friends that I’ve known for 20 years.
As I sat across from one of those friends last night over dinner, I realized how much of our lives end up forgotten. He remembered some parts and where he forgot, I filled in his missing pieces. And he, mine. It’s crazy for us to think that we’ll never forget things that happen to us along the way. We swear we won’t. Admit it: you forget. So I’m urging you to tell your story somehow. Start a blog, a journal, a diary, write a book or even a movie.
As I was looking through some pictures I recently took, I was reminded of how I’ll see events from today. Events that originally to me looked like this:
Will, in fact, eventually be remembered like this:
Fuzzy and hard to make out. I’ll know those are my two boys in that picture but I won’t be able recollect what they were doing at the time. So, I say tell your story. Make sure you can remember all the moments you’re sure you’ll never forget.