Monday, May 13, 2013

Throwaway thought

If I were to persist imagining my parents young, I would cry. I'm not sure why. Perhaps because I wouldn't know how to continue being taken care of, perhaps because my own knowledge that this youth is ephemeral would solidify. And just maybe because it would make me feel their loss like my own. All that spring sunshine. I would wonder what became of it. And I wouldn't know. And I would look at the remarkable equanimity with which they seem to have handled the passage of time. And I would grieve for them. And wonder why they didn't hold onto that time when their child was little and their world large. With the arrogance of youth I would feel a sorrow they may or may not have. And impose on them the soon to be thwarted ambitions of my own immortality. But most of all, it would make me painfully aware that time is fleeting. And mine will be up as will that of everybody I know. And none of it ought to be unfelt.