Pimples to Wrinkles

Time is such a funny thing.  So relative.  

I woke up this morning as a 30 year old woman, with a half dollar sized bleach mark on my favorite pillow case because I put Clearasil on last night before bed.  Now, two things in that sentence annoy me: 

1) A 30 year old who must still maintain her "Cindy Crawford" glow with Clearasil.

2) That was a brand new pillow case. 

Anyway,
I used to work with Autistic children and loved it.  I taught in a form of therapy called ABA (Applied Behavior Analysis).  There was one student who was my absolute favorite.  I followed him from Kindergarten through Second grade.  He was brave, and full of life. 
We grew so much together as people in those few short years.  Me finding my way, and he, just growing up.  It was one of those experiences that you could never recreate in your life.  You must just recognize it as beautiful while you live it.  I always try to purposefully store those memories away in my heart, because I know I won't get a "do -over". 

It's been nearly 6 years since, and today, through the wonders of Facebook, I found his mom.  He is so tall, and grown, and when he saw my picture... he remembered me!  By name!  That was a gift.

I was thinking today at work how funny that some days can seem to draaag on forever.  You look at the clock and can't understand why that minute-hand refuses to move.  Other days you hardly notice the time, and before you know it, its QUITTING TIME!  

Today was a quick day. Yesterday I thought the clock broke.  Well, it was either that or I was in the Twilight zone.  You pick.  

Time, there never seems to be quite enough of it when you need it, but when you are quite through with something, there is time-a-plenty! Why do you think that is?  

I talked with my mom tonight about my Gramma who is starting to show her age, and I'm afraid she's starting to show signs of some type of memory loss.  I think there may be a conversation with Grampa in the near future.  Memories.  Something too precious to lose.  

I'm going to a jewelry party in a few days.  You know what they are.  They are the 2010 version of a Tupperware party.

I would like to suggest a memory party.

Call all your family or friends together, pull out all the old photographs, videos, even records.  Anything with a memory attached, and just love again.  Plan it for a rainy day, wear your sweat pants, make cookies, drink coffee, or tea....or beer...whatever your pleasure.  Just take a leisurely walk thru Memory Lane.

We can call it a Living Scrapbook.  

The last time I saw my Grampa Bolton was Christmas a few years ago.  I remember when I gave him a kiss goodbye thinking that it would be the last time I would see him.  His wet kiss lingured on my lips as I got into the car that snowy night and set out for the 2 1/2 hour ride home.  I had tears in my eyes.   Less than 4 months later he passed away. 

Time, such a fickle lover.

Choose to treat each moment as one to tuck away for safe keeping.

I try to.