Thursday, June 29, 2006
That's Naomi in the middle of her two friends, Andrea and Matt.
About a million years ago.
Have you ever tried to slow down time? I tried and tried and tried. I'd sit on the couch and watch Naomi, at six, line-up her stuffed animals, singing under her breath and I'd long for all the hands of all my clocks to stop, even for five minutes. Just give me five minutes, I'd think, five motionless minutes to memorize Naomi just as she is right now, today... five minutes longer to bask in this moment which will, one day, belong to the time of Very Long Ago.
But always, I felt that hard press of Time moving forward. Always, even when later, I stood at the bottom of the stairs, appreciating a teen-age Naomi who played her Beatles records, I still felt like a woman on the edge of the ocean, unable to stop the tide from sweeping back out to where it had begun. I could not appreciate moments enough and I never, never was able to stop a single one.
And even though Naomi lived with us for 25 years, and yes, beyond the time which experts consider kosher--still there was that press of Time. Still it all went by in a blur... even though I took pictures.... even though I sat and memorized Naomi at 6 and 10 and 14 and 20...even though I chauffeured her to Tai Kwon Do and beyond... even though I sat, alone, on the front porch in evenings and told myself, year after year, to treasure Now, because Now would not always be like it currently is.
Even though I lived very, very consciously through Naomi's childhood and tried to make the most of every minute.... still... still... still... it sailed by out on that ocean of Time until, standing, shading my eyes on the beach, I could see it no more, other than in my memories.
But then, childhood and Life are like that.