The only reason for time is so that everything doesn't happen at once. - Albert Einstein
When I first heard that quote -- many moons ago -- I envisioned all the events in my life stacked neatly in a pile, strategically separated by fine strips of cellophane, similar to slides. Without time, or the slides, everything rushes together in a sort of whoosh!, no structure or reason.
From diagnosis until about a year ago I progressed fairly slowly, meeting each new challenge with creativity and ebullience, adapting to each new normal with the panache and humility for which I am well known. Create a car key contraption, insert slide. Walk instead of run, insert slide. Make changes to wardrobe, insert slide. And so on.
Over the past year there have been a couple of whoosh! moments, when the pace of my progression moved too quickly for the slides to separate. So much changed so much faster that, when I stopped to reassess, the spaces between the events were blurry, indistinct.
Thank goodness for time...for the time we are given.
Many years ago, shopping at a department store, my two little daughters asked again and again what time it was. Unnatural mother that I am, I answered, "Time is a concept." After several minutes of this a nearby salesperson took pity on my darlings. Not bothering to disguise her impatience with me, she smiled sweetly at the girls and said, "It's 3:30, dears." I still smile at this memory.
Until I was unable to manipulate the clasp or strap of my various watches, I always wore one. My wrist still feels bare.
17 hours ago