This March I turn 56. And for the first time, it is not a birthday I welcome. It will be the first one without my husband since we married over 26 years ago. My daughter is leaving home and moving to Colorado five days later. And I look in the mirror these days and feel old.
Maybe it is that I am skipping past 50 with this next birthday that has me thinking about time. 15 minutes of sand in the hourglass. 15 minutes of thread, snip. 15 minutes of creating, what? Just as there is no inherent value in gold, only what it can purchase, so it is with time:
It came out of the blue, like a punch to the gut this Thanksgiving, or maybe not so much out of the blue. The elephant had hung large and grey all day: caring for our mother. In comparing conflicting schedules with my sister for the upcoming week – she was busy, I was busy, she