The Relentless March of Very Normal Things

 Time passing is one of the only constants in life. It's something that is going to happen, no matter what.  You can't count on much, but you can count on time passing.  Which is why it amuses me that I, like many, am so affected when I think about where all the time went.  A friend of mine lost a pet recently; two of my friends, in fact. Their pets were similar in age, about 15 years old.  The thing is, I remember when they got these animals in their lives; I remember them as little ones like it was not so long ago.  It just blows my mind that 2007 was 15 years ago now - I remember those days far too well for them to have been that long ago.  I mean, 15 years was longer than my whole grade school career, which seemed to last a lifetime when I was in them.  Now, that same gulf of time seems like a blip.

But this is normal, inevitable.  And here I am, still riding in this ship, wondering what the hell I'm doing here anyway.  Don't we all wonder this, though.  Even those who I think are more self-assured than I are probably suffering from their own identity in time crisis. I hope that whatever time I have left here, I enjoy it at least.  I spent a lot of time growing older waiting for the good times to start, when often I was right in the middle of them.  Sometimes, this is as good as it gets and you should just have that next slice of pizza.

Pancakes

 Sometimes you get clear memories locked in the folds of your brain - moments where every detail, the time, day, place, etc. are indelibly etched upon the gray matter in your skull.  But other times, there are just... impressions? Like, in my random travels across the internet, I saw a picture of a vintage bottle of "Golden Griddle" pancake syrup - and suddenly, I had a flood of emotional memories hit me.  Nothing exactly specific, but I remember in my childhood, this was a brand of syrup my mother often bought, and whenever I see it - I remember mornings where she cooked me and my brothers breakfast - and that every prsent bottle of sweet stuff sat on the table.  She always seemed to have so much fun cooking up stacks of those pancakes for us - and, of course, the ever present favorite of us boys, bacon.  My younger brother and older brother used to have "competitions" to see who could have the last piece of bacon left at the end of the meal.  We'd be finishing up and my brother would proudly chomp his "last piece of bacon" that he saved, while we were all bereft of the deliciousness.... only to have my other brother pull out a small piece he hid under the edge of his plate, and smugly eat it.  We'd all giggle.  We still joke about this to this day when we all get together for a meal.  It's one of my favorite memories about my brothers. 

But it's amazing how a little thing like a bottle of syrup can bring back memories and emotions of happy, good times.  I am really thankful for those moments in my life, and for the fact that I can recall them all these years later and still smile.