We don’t seem them much anymore in this era of digital time, sand clocks. As a young woman, I bought one on a whim. It wasn’t one of those big hour clocks that you see in movies. (Remember the one in The Wizard of Oz?) Mine was a minute timer. A simple, tiny, glass and wood device meting out seconds with a stream of white sand. Fascinated, I turned over the timer and would watch the flow. And, even though I knew that it poured at the same speed, it seemed as if time passed more quickly the closer the top portion was nearing the end. Then, I would turn the timer upside down and start the flow all over again. Time was endless.
I feel as if my life has become one of those sand clocks. Time being measured out – with most of my sand now sitting in the bottom half. Each grain representing days spent carelessly without a thought about the stream, about the passing. Sometimes I even wished time would hurry along. Anxious for the future to arrive. It’s different now.
As I lie in bed – those early mornings that are still dark – I wonder if it really is morning or if I have entered some other time continuum. For in those moments, I can feel time standing before me, not still, but shifting. I can hear it pouring out, and I wonder how it happened so quickly. No longer carefree, I caress my clock in my hands and watch time shifting from space to space, moving faster now.
Pushing against gravity, I struggle to sit up and to take hold of what time is left. Each grain is precious. If only I could scoop up some time and put it back in the top half, or turn it over just like I did with the minute timer. Even to have another minute added to my stream. But, I can’t.
There is no stopping the flow. Days slipped into days, months into months, and years into years. Until, finally, each hour stands alone. Time is no longer measured. It is treasured.
The rePurposed Life 
Love the way you ended this, with every moment being treasured. A good lesson for everyone!
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Thank you.
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Something I think about a little more frequently these days, along the years of better health, which I am thankful for. I hope you’re ok, Rose.
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I read once that our brains put down a marker every time we do something for the first time. The reason time seems to speed up when we are older is because we have fewer and fewer markers -Time disappears without any new memories. What a great post though – we should make the most of time.
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Made me think. Time moves stealthily along as we busyily live our life. When we realize the top of the hour glass is noticeably emptier our priorities begin to change, our sense of self takes on a new dimension. Hopefully its a sense of peace as I see in my mother at age 89, and not a sense of desparation.
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This makes me so sad and yet appreciative of authentic writing, sharing. I don’t want to lose you Rose, my heart will hurt. My eyes are teared up reading this.
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Thank you. I am compelled to write for time is short for all of us. May we live each day appreciative of what we have. 😘🤗
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I am glad you are compelled to write, writing is a wonderful way to share. I’ve been aloof with everyone and everything and meant to email. This gets me out of the wierd twilight zone a little bit. Hugs and love xoxox
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😘
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What a great metaphor you used here – you and the hourglass as I grew up calling them…and you sand clocks. Yours is more picturesque.
It’s an honor and pleasure to meet you via WordPress. I look forward to reading and sharing with my readers, last month spanning 81 countries and growing.
Paulette Le Pore Motzko
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Your kind words have brightened my day. I look forward to getting to know you.
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And also I look forward to getting to know the warm, courageous, spirit- filled lady you’ve become. I am Catholic and my Confirmation name is Therese, after St. THERESE THE LITTLE FLOWER. My nanny pray to her and I have her prayers and I started praying here years ago and I found roses, so roses we’re no roses grow and tons of things like that more than once period so in 2001 I was confirmed very late in life my mother God bless her in heaven with my sponsor. It’s better that the picture her and I that’s on Ramona’s Alzheimer’s disease daily comma the newsletter that I created for those who have dementia and Alzheimer’s disease is named after her. I think you’re one of the “roses” that St. Therese showers as a sign of a prayer answered-come to think of it!
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I am glad I was the sun that shone a positive light in your day!
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