Time Passages

Twenty-five years. A quarter of a century. My lovely daughter has reached this milestone and is comfortably living in Brooklyn. As I reflect back on the years, I recall many wonderful times as a family. Traveling around the country and world, playing in the yard, house, or school, and all of the activities that she loved to do. I have heard it said that as a parent, the days are sometimes long, but the years are short. Truer words were never written. I find myself wondering where all of this time went.

I still recall a Wednesday evening in 1993 driving to the hospital from our house out in the country. I had the radio on and Paul McCartney's latest hit was playing on the radio. The song was, Hope of Deliverance. I kid you not! "We live in hope of deliverance from the darkness that surrounds us." All went well with the delivery, much faster than with our son twenty-two months prior. I celebrate you, my dearest daughter. The world is a better place because of you; I continue to cherish you.

Your decision to go to graduate school to be certified as a school psychologist seems like a natural one. You are such a caring person whom children adore. You know how stressful and challenging the school experience can be for some children and your work will bring them assistance as they navigate sometimes rocky waters. Your intellect and work ethic continue to lead to your success. I am a proud parent.

I am also a proud child. My father was an accomplished musician and in addition to playing church organ and the violin in the local symphony, he was always playing the piano at home. For a few years, he was the rehearsal pianist for Masquers, a local theater company. There are certain musicals that are stuck in my mind because I heard the songs being played so often. The one that is haunting me right now is from Fiddler on the Roof: Sunrise, Sunset.

Is this the little girl I carried?

Is this the little boy at play?

I don't remember growing older

When, did, they?

When did she get to be a beauty?

When did he grow to be so tall?

Wasn't it yesterday when they, were, small?

Sunrise, sunset, Sunrise, sunset

Swiftly flow the days

Seedlings turn overnight to sunflowers

Blossoming even as we gaze

Sunrise, sunset, Sunrise, sunset

Swiftly fly the years

One season following another

Laden with happiness and tears

Forty-six years. Almost half a century. That's how long my family had our phone number in Manitowoc. Just a week ago, I made the decision to cancel it. My family moved to Manitowoc in 1966 as my father was starting his medical practice. We moved across town in

1972 and at that point, with teenagers in the house, my parents decided to get a second phone line so Dad's business phone was accessible for calls from patients or the hospital. My family have all moved away from here but I kept the old phone number. Once in a while, I'd get a call from a person who was part of the distant past, looking for my parents. Sometimes there'd be a call for a tee time at the Branch River Country Club but lately, most of the calls are solicitors or political robo calls. I guess time as removed my need to have a landline. Young people today don't know what it was like to be tethered to a wall in your house to have a conversation. Whatever one was talking about, anyone in that public space could here. Before caller ID, we never know who was on the line when we answered it. If you had multiple phones in the house, someone could pick up the other line and listen in, without you knowing. There was a nervousness that ensued when you were calling someone you were interested in, not knowing if a parent or someone else would answer. Now, most everyone has their own digits and such stress is removed from making a phone call. In 1978 I was delivering pizza for Pizza Garden in Manitowoc. There are certain songs that are etched into my brain from those nights. My family's 1972 Vista Cruiser station wagon, the same one featured in That 70s Show, smelling an odd mix of pizza and cardboard as the

sterno fumes made me increasingly loopy. It was the radio that kept me sane as I ferried pizza around town. Time Passages by Al Stewart is one of those songs that I associate with those days. Well I'm not the kind to live in the past

The years run too short and the days too fast

The things you lean on are the things that don't last

Well it's just now and then my line gets cast into theseTime passages

I never watched soap operas. Well, true confessions, there were a few times when my mom couldn't be home to watch hers and she asked me to watch so I could report what happened. Keep in mind, this was before VCRs, DVRs or any other acronym that could record television for later. There is a line from Days of Our Lives that seems like a fitting way to conclude this blog: "Like sands through an hourglass, these are the days of our lives." Maybe I'm not happy with a foot of snow in mid April but I should enjoy these moments. And maybe I'm sad my baby girl has grown up seemingly too fast, I am going to enjoy the moments of her journey with love and pride.

================================================================================================ (Note: There is much more about time I need to explore. Certainly it will be the subject of a future blog. I'd love to learn any connections or thoughts you have about time.)