Samhain Publishing Ltd. Weblog

I'VE GOT NOTHING TO SAY

What is this blogging trend, anyway? Where, when and how did it begin? I should think up some cruel and unusual punishment for the one who started it. I’m willing to bet the first ever blogger found him or herself fascinating and wanted everyone to share in that opinion. What better way than to write down every thought that came into his head and post it on the Internet thereby further building his own ego word by word? Could this be the same individual who convinced the American public that having a cell phone pressed to one’s ear at all times would perpetuate the myth of our individual popularity?

THE PASSAGE OF TIME

I’m getting old and I know it. It doesn’t always help to work in an environment where I’m surrounded by twenty-somethings. While they keep me in the loop and I enjoy their youthful antics, I’m also constantly reminded of how far I am from where they are. I’ve been there and done that and it seems a very long time ago.

I’ve been a barista at a local Starbucks for almost five years. (Ever since I started, I’ve claimed I’m just there for the story ideas.) Needless to say, I am the last of the original employees in that store. I know a lot of the regular customers and somehow through them and their children I am marking time.

One of my favorite customers started coming in shortly after we opened for business carrying his little boy John, a dark-haired, brown-eyed cutie who reminded me of my son when he was that age. I’d say “Hi” to John and wave to him. At first he’d duck his head into his dad’s shoulder. As time went by, sometimes he’d smile at me or wave back. Then one day he walked in holding his dad’s hand. He was still shy, but I always welcomed him with a “Hi, Buddy,” and usually I’d get at least a smile in return. Eventually, he started saying “Hi” back to me.

When he was old enough to see over the counter, I’d get down on his level and have a little conversation with him. His confidence grew along with his height. The next thing I knew he was in pre-school. By now we were pals. He’d respond to my questions and grin every time he saw me.

Last fall I asked his dad how John was doing and he informed me John had started kindergarten. I was shocked. How could he be in kindergarten? I’d been watching this little boy grow up without even realizing it. Four years had passed and I’d hardly noticed. But there the marker was.

Oh, sure there have been other slaps in the face that tell me I’m aging. My son’s friends are getting married and that reminds me that he’s been old enough to do the same for a few years. My daughter graduated college. She’s now officially an adult. Why then, do I have such vivid memories of her as a baby?

I officially stopped coloring my hair this year. I’m gray. Everyone knows it. Why fight it?

We ripped up some of the original carpeting in our house recently. Thirteen years ago, it was brand new.

I had a dream about my 84-year-old father the other night. He was dying and he said to me, “It all went by so fast.”

I think about how much of our time is spent on things that are insignificant, the things we have to do. Bathe. Brush our teeth. Clean the house. Sleep. Wait in lines. Time slips through our fingers and there’s nothing we can do about it. We’re left with a few vivid memories and the rest is a blur.

In a little more than 30 years, I’ll be the same age as my dad is now. Those thirty years will have gone by like the first 50 did. I’ll be as astonished as he was when I tell my child, “It all went by so fast.”