Time Wastes Too Fast

“time wastes too fast: every letter I trace tells me with what rapidity Life follows my pen. the days and hours of it are flying over our heads like clouds of windy day – never to return – more everything presses on – and every time I kiss thy hand to bid adieu, every absence which follows it, are preludes to the eternal separation which we are shortly to make!” – ‘Tristram Shandy’ by Laurence Sterne.

Chanced upon the above at this site – http://kalman.blogs.nytimes.com/2009/06/25/time-wastes-too-fast/?em

I feel as if there is too little time in my life. Too little time to love to the extend that I wish to love. The peoples, the places, the preoccupations. Truly too much left to love and accomplish. And hours I want to spend holding your child in my arms, lifting and swinging the little ones before these muscles are worn. Hearing you tell me about the past week/month/year in your life. Pressing my fingertips into your shoulders in friendship or bear-hugging, rough housing you. Pressing my lips against your ears and telling you what I want to hear. “Besos linda!” you taught.

The times I want to be left alone with the sunrises, sunsets, the good books, the hot teas. All the inanimates, intangibles that I love. Travelling with the wind in my hair. I left my hair growing longer and longer these past years. My trademark hair joke is that I left it long to ensnare the boys, but something more honest, would be that I left it long to catch the breeze in these waves.

And then, there’s the future and that rainy day I’m suppose to prepare for. I’m expected to stockpile assets, money and accolades and scale to greater heights in my heels. I want all these too, because I keep wanting to do this, that and that in my life. To travel, to gift, to have the money spend on bettering something, pampering someone. To leave a certain legacy.

Time does waste too fast and I want this brief lifetime of mine wasted on you.