Late last night I had a flash of a memory from my childhood. When I was 9 or 10 I heard my  Mom and Dad talking in the dark after I had gone to bed. My Mom said she was worried because things were all going by too fast. It scared me even though I didn’t understand what that meant.

When we are young, time moves slowly and we wish for speed.

It is only later, when we are older and desperate for the time that it goes blazing past us and out of our grasp.

It was just yesterday that we were bundled in our coats, tramping through the snow.

Then one morning there were strawberries in the market and the next, it was too hot to sit in my garden.

I now know what my Mom meant. And it still scares me.