Time moves on

The first time I learned the lesson that time moves on was when my mom died. Time kicked me dragging and screaming away from the world in which she was alive. I remember clearly counting how long it had been since she died. In the moments after she passed I started the clock. It began with, “thirty minutes ago, Mom was alive.” Before I knew it I was saying, “twelve hours ago, Mom was alive.” Then it was “twenty-four hours ago she was alive.” Soon the days turned to weeks that turned into months and now it’s been more than a decade. I don’t like it but now I’m used to this world where she is no longer alive. I’ve accepted this reality in which time has shown me that it continues without consideration of tragic events and how the people affected by the situation feel.

The next event that proved to me that time moves on no matter what, the reverse is true. It’s been positive. Five years ago last weekend, I walked out of my bathroom and had a stroke. I spent six days in the ICU experiencing a medical issue that should have killed me. I should be dead. When I got home from my time in the ICU, now with metal in my left carotid artery keeping me alive, I felt this overwhelming sense that I should be dead and I wasn’t. I saw my sons and had a vision of my three-year-old dressed up to go to my funeral. My younger son was only five weeks old. I broke down and cried. I still view the event with the thought that I should have died not that I could have died. I started the counting clock. “This time last week I had a stroke” became “this time a month ago.” Now it’s years. I hope to be able to say my stroke was over a decade ago. Maybe I can get to a point where I can say “my stoke was more than thirty years ago.”

It’s wonderful to be at a point point where my stroke was half a decade ago and time is moving on. I’m in this world. I’m alive. Time keeps going and for that I’m grateful. I want time to keep going for me. I want to see my sons grow up. I want them to know me. If I had died five years ago, they wouldn’t have any memories of me. I’m starting to grow more confident with each passing moment that I won’t die right now. I have a newfound appreciation for my birthday. I don’t take any moment for granted. Not everyday is a good day but my overall arc is great. I love being in this world. One day my boys will say, “this time twenty-four hours ago Mom was alive.” Their clock will start for a world without me in it but that time isn’t now. Time continues for all of us, good or bad.