Time

-circa- December 2010


Time. It is what we wear on our wrists. It is what we carry in our pockets.We spend it more freely than money, and how we spend it can greatly affect our lives. We are born rich with it. Time is free. Time is precious. Time is irreplaceable. Time doesn't last, and it goes on with or without us. Sometimes time can seem like a waste. And other times, time just flies by leaving us wishing for more.

I woke up this morning to the sound of my brother and his family heading to the airport. The time was 4:00 AM and in just a few hours time, I would be headed to SFO in that same car.

I was sad. This Christmas, time just flew by like an airplane with a message attached to the back in red block letters. You look up, and it is there, and you look up again, and it has flown over the horizon.

It was time for me to get up and get packed again. This time, I had planned ahead, bringing an empty bag to fill with all of my favorite things from home. I had time to head downstairs and make coffee. I didn't want to wake my family before it was time for the rest of them to get up. But I just wanted to make sure I had just a little more time to sip my coffee, in my house, near the tree, before it was time to leave.

I managed to be relatively on time this particular morning. Everything was packed, and after finishing up loose ends, I zipped my tightly packed bags, carried them downstairs, and said goodbye to my family. Again.

It was a very foggy morning. It reminded me of a time when I was younger, and foggy mornings meant heading to school, or interesting drives through the city. It made me think of how saying goodbye, every time, has equally gotten easier and more difficult. It is easy because I have done it many times, but more difficult, because time has made us all older, and the time I spend away, the moments I miss, I will never get back.

We reached the bridge, and this time, took a slightly different route. I looked outside at the grey waters which seemed incredibly calm. Groups of black birds floated on the surface, riding the gentle crests, bobbing up and down. They slowly floated away into the fog, and I wondered how much time they spent on that bay, and if they were cold, and if at some time, I had ever been a bird.

This time, the drive was silent. The radio had been stolen out of the car a long time ago, and it had never been replaced. There was no bubbly music to cover up the inevitable..... The feeling of knowing it was almost time to say goodbye loomed over me like the fog over the city.... It was heavy and thick, and it lacked color or excitement. It was just something I had to go through..... minus the headlights.

I spent a long time waiting to check-in. The line moved slowly, but time kept ticking. The security checkpoint took time, but a handsome TSA officer made the time in line much more bearable. By the time I made it through, it was already time to board.... But, in time, I would find out that we would not be departing on time.... We would wait on the plane an extra hour until it was ready to fly.

I was sitting in the window seat this time. I preferred aisle, but was thankful to have something to rest my head against when I finally did fall asleep. I opened the shade, and as I waited for our departure, I could still see home on the outside of the plane..... I decided to close the shade, close my eyes, and sleep until it was finally time for takeoff. Christmas had come to an end, and it was time to go back.

Time. It is broken up into an infinite number of moments, memories, struggles, and accomplishments. Time is the measure of night and day, and the constant metronome of life and our universe. Time is the rhythm of a dancer, time is the tempo of a song, and the beating of your heart. Time is truly a gift. And this Christmas, I am reminded that it is gift for which I will always be grateful.