I had to do a little research to see where and/or when that phrase can be attributed. No one really seems to know, although referencing Ask.com seems to show an early association to St. Marher in 1225 with the original lines predating modern English.
It seems appropriate as I am finding myself reminded lately just how quickly time moves ahead, most often with little thought to the rapidity until one day, we look and years have disappeared.
Here is a non-comprehensive list of my personal little reminders of the disappearing hours and days that surround me.
*The advancing senility of my cat who walks on arthritic joints, sleeps more than she is awake, and easily forgets that just two hours earlier she had dinner, all the while yowling pitifully as if I am purposefully starving her.
*The undeniable fact that my granddaughter will be turning 2 years of age in just a few days. I will swear that the last time I looked at her, really looked, she was a swaddled bundle of adorable, not this burgeoning (and still adorable) little girl.
*The reminder that it has been 19 years since both of my parents passed. A few things brought this to mind, one of them being an impromptu drive by of the acreage we used to own at a local lake. The cabin that my father built is still present, still the same forest green color set back into the cedar trees. I spent summers in that cabin well into my teen years and my father continued to work the land near it right up to his death.
*The 10-year high school reunion of my oldest child. That occurred this weekend. Couple that with the fact that she also just had a birthday, turning 29, and a wedding anniversary marking 4 years. NO. I’m almost certain it was just yesterday that she drove off to school in her not-so-trustworthy VW Jetta.
*The undoubtedly rapid approach of 1 year of marriage for my son and daughter-in-law. Couple that with a new job and move farther north. Again, NO.
*The desire to find a smaller place to exist. Our present home, lived in since pregnant 21+ years ago with our third child, will soon (really already) be much too big and much more than I want to tackle. This is our second home. Our first, only one mile away, grew from the dirt upward and saw the beginnings of our first two children. When the third child became a reality our search for more space led us here, but nearly 22 years is enough. I want to see new sights when I look out my windows. I do wonder though, what memories will be carried away from here. What might any or all of the children think or reminisce on when this home belongs to someone else?
*The physical signs that age is creeping quickly through my door. Actually not just my door, but for the majority of my peers also, who sort of suddenly look older–signs that I was always able to look past until lately.
*The passing of people in general, some known personally and some only by a slight acquaintance or association such as friendships grown in this blogging arena. The concept of mortality somehow seems a bit closer, a bit more real.
*The last tick of the great old schoolhouse clock hanging in my dining area.
I yearned for a clock like this when we bought our current home and was delighted when I found one to hang. Of course, it simply needs a new battery and it will march on with its time-keeping. Watching it slow today, loosing more and more time until finally the hands didn’t move beyond 3:23 really seemed to signify a rather profound realization for me. One day, somewhere beyond all this rush and hustle and quick-as-lightening march of time, I will slow and then stop. We all do. We all will.
I’m sure that there are many more reality checks that loom all around me. I am however finding this talk of time passage to be slightly depressing, perhaps even slightly morbid. I am therefore choosing to put it aside for now. Time will continue to march forward, probably much faster than I would like.
We need to give credit to St. Marher. A wise man to decry that no matter how we may want to hold time still we are not in control.