Have you ever found yourself looking at life and just wondering? Wondering where 39, 45, 67 or 78 years have gone (depending on your current age). Does it feel like time is slipping through your fingers like sand from the beach?I had a day like that today. I found myself looking at life, thus far, marvelling at my three amazing children, my marriage, my aging parents and the world around me. I think all of this started to hit me last night as my hubby and I were driving home. We had popped out to have a quick dinner; just the two of us. On our way home, we sat quietly in the car, listening to our local radio station. During one of the ad breaks there was a mention of something medical, requesting those 50 and over to make sure they got themselves checked out.
After the ad was finished, I turned my head to look at my (very) handsome 41-year-old husband and said, "Hmmm, isn't that funny, it feels like it was only yesterday when I wouldn't have even had a second listen to an ad like that. Today, I've just realised that you are only 9 years away from that time and those tests, and I only 11 years. Where does time go and how does it slip through our fingers?"
Tonight, I sat listening to my eldest daughter rehearse her oral presentation for class tomorrow. I found myself astounded by her vocabulary, her poise and her confidence. It was in that moment that I realised where the time had gone. The time hasn't been like the sand from the beach and slipped through my fingers at all. I have lost nothing, rather I have gained the world because that time has been spent and deposited well within my children.
Yes, there are new lines on my face and grey can be found hidden and at times peeking out; indeed my numbers are increasing. However I ask myself, "Is time flying by?" My response, "Absolutely, it's going at rocket speed. However, today I am thankful that my moments, hours, weeks, months and years are being used well by three amazing lives, who in this moment depend on me being the best me I can be."
Susan J Sohn

Growing up in England, Easter always heralded the onset of spring with its watery blue skies, crowds of golden daffodils and vibrant green grass emerging from a winter prison of frost and snow.

