Measures of Time

“Are we there yet?” my five year old grandniece asked just a few minutes after the car started.
“It is quite a distance yet,” I replied. This conversation was repeated several times during the trip from the child’s school to our home. The response varied as we neared our destination to, “about ten minutes more”, or “just a few minutes more,” until we reached our destination.
The same impatience is manifested when there are trips planned, especially if it is for a holiday. “How many sleeps more?”
The child’s mother has to go on business trips for a few days or sometimes a week. The child’s first question when the mother calls at night is, “How many more sleeps before you are here?” I remember that when I was a child Christmas seemed to be ages apart. Now it seems to come too close to one another.
When I was in my prime working I always wake up not later than five in the morning. By seven, I was at the bus stop. I worked until sundown. At nine in the evening I felt tired and ready for sleep. I could not understand people who slept up to nine or ten in the morning. Now I am one of them.
As I reminisce over the past, I realize that those were experiences I can never forget. They were as if they happened very recently. The sad part is that they were the unhappy events in my life that I would rather forget. There is that saying: Forgive and forget! It is hard to forgive when you cannot forget. It is often said that time is the best healer. Time sort of dulls the pain, but the wound often remains open.
Very often we hear of fights and murders not very far from where we live. The protagonists are often young people – in their teens and early twenties. There are often remarks that those involved, both suspects and victims are known to police. At a very young age some of them have long police records.
No matter what these young people had done against society, we wonder what they had missed in life if that life was cut early. There had been quite a number of victims who were reported to be doing well in school and their neighbourhood. They are sadly missed and regrets are expressed for what they missed in their future and their possible contributions to this world.
How has time affected communities? Have you been back to your town in the Philippines? Can you note differences or is the place still the same? Wealthy communities usually undergo tremendous changes that one can hardly recognize those places from what thy used to be, twenty years ago. Same places, however remain the same –muddy lanes, lack of sanitary toilets, lack of water.
Time leaves indelible marks on our physiques. Lines on our faces and arms show signs of age. We also lessen in vigor and enthusiasm for things.
But the changes differ from person to person according to their circumstances in life, the places they live in, their successes and failures in their endeavors and the pressure of responsibilities that they carry.
A very dear friend of mine went to the airport to meet former classmates that he had not seen in forty years. He was shocked when he saw them. “Ang tatanda na nila!”. The weather in the Philippines tends to wither the skin and bring more deep wrinkles than the cold weather in Canada.
The care we give to ourselves, physically emotionally mentally and spiritually keep up from showing marks of time on ourselves. Look at the celebrities who are in their sixties, seventies, eighties and even nineties like Betty White! Time seemed to keep them barely touched.
Due to discoveries and inventions in medicines, cosmetology and other branches of science, the life span has tremendously lengthened. There are more seniors now and the number is increasing every year. Wellness clinics have sprouted everywhere counselling and training people on how to keep fit.
But the number of people who need personal care is also increasing. Many of them are physically well but are suffering from Alzheimer’s Disease. The need for geriatric care has tremendously increased.
Most of us, no matter what age love life. I am already physically disabled. I find it hard to walk. I often fall. But I still love life and cannot understand people who commit suicide. I can just sit in our deck and enjoy the gentle breeze and the bright sunshine with the robins and other birds chirping and hopping from branch to branch of the trees. I enjoy the juicy fresh fruits like mangoes, papayas and peaches. A simple meal of fried catfish, rice and fresh tomatoes with “bagoong” is already a feast for me.
It is often said that it is not the length of time that one stays in this world but how that time was spent. To me no matter how long we live , life is short. Let us live the time given to us to the fullest.