Time
On Monday, I went for a walk. I went to a local park, but as it was Memorial Day, the park was full of picnickers and families and that was a little depressing to me. I left by a different route than I normally take and happened to pass by a retirement home. An old lady sitting on her patio beckoned me over. I naturally did a mental, “Who me?” but there was no one else around. She asked me what day it was, and I answered that it was the 28th. She then asked when Monday would come, and I replied that it was Monday now. That seemed to surprise her a bit. Then she commented on how nice of a day it was, and how she always sits on her patio and asked if I had ever seen her sitting there before. I could only admit that I do not come that way very often.
I would not even venture a guess as to how old she was. She was quite likely the wrinkliest person that I have ever seen. I somehow got to wondering if she had ever been beautiful, if she had ever been loved, but now she was alone every day on her patio. Time always trumps love and beauty in the end. We really do not have that much time.
That, of course, only reminded me of my mother, but then again, what doesn’t?