The Face on the Wall

There comes a time, when in the midst of the whirl of excitement, you stop and realize that time has not done the same… that it has continued to tally the months, weeks, days, and hours, even though you seemed to have turned your back on its progress. You no longer heard the ticking of the clock, and yet, it peeled forth the call of its determinate pace. It sauntered on, steadily, as your eyes carefully avoided its gaze. It is in that moment that you turn and see the memories that have come together to make the present what it is. There have been times of joy and moments of pain. Hours of trial gave way to seasons of triumph as bitter tears mingled with a hopeful smile. You see the people who have entered your life and have changed it in ways you never thought possible. You are enveloped in a feeling of perfect belonging as you explore each impression they have left on your heart. Suddenly, a chill creeps into your thoughts. Once more, you are brought to an awareness of the clock’s faithful toll. Although you stopped to revel in the memory of the past months, weeks, days, and hours it has not. Onward the hands march in their rigid annular course. It is in this moment, as perfect as it is, that you realize, that nothing will ever be quite the same.
_____________________________________________________

“Don’t count every hour in the day, make every hour in the day count.”