The weeks are really flying. I’m reminded of my grandmother who used to tell me to wait, and the days would seem shorter someday, the holidays would group together. 

Christmas again, again.

I scoffed, disbelieving. As if, Grandma! 

The arrogance of youth, feeling time move through sandy beaches and molasses speed.

Now I am close to the end of my fourth decade and I smile ruefully, remembering her soft smile when I disagreed. She didn’t try to argue, accepting that youth always feels age is joking.

 Their knowledge merely a farce or fear 

instead of the wisdom that it truly is.

I have lost years, and now I understand. One minute the days were so long and now I can’t remember where 2015 went. Or 2016, and we are approaching the halfway point for 2017. 

I’d like to grab time by the shoulders sometimes, shaking it with all the pent-up confusion and bewilderment caused by years of sleepless nights and children 

Why must you move so fast? Why so slow? Why are you so Damn RELATIVE?

Make the good moments slow please, 

speed the bad ones up.

But I know that soon I will be that lady who smiles at the young child, saying

“Just wait. You’ll see.”