A New Year
Saying hello and goodbye.
I look at my son’s little feet and shoes and wonder where they will take him in life. It is hard to believe he, my oldest, is three and speeding toward four.
This morning, it hit me like a wave. “Time flies” is a saying almost without meaning, or like time, it is relative; the inexorable rush of the future is never apparent until it crashes over you. Time is an impetuous wind.
