Somebody pushed a fast-forward button before it was invented, and life began rushing past at breakneck speed. Dangling tassels were switched from one side to another; Promises were made before God; New babies cried; Budgets strained; Better jobs were celebrated. Packing boxes filled and emptied at regular intervals.Pictures left no shadows on transient walls.Five children thrived in spite of chaos. Report cards were signed. Skinned knees bandaged. Pianos practiced. Prom dresses bought. Graduations were attended. Weddings happened. New-born babies cried and the cycle began anew.
Through it all, that unseen finger kept pushing the button that caused night shadows to fall across rooftops almost before morning sun finished peeking through backyard trees.
I saw her again this morning ... Aunt Effie, I mean. In my bathroom mirror. Her brown eyes were staring straight into my brown eyes. I leaned closer. She leaned closer. Our noses almost touched as I studied the wrinkled face I remembered from so many years before.
She was a sweet lady. Once, when I was fourteen and a guest in her home, she took me to the local skating rink and stood on the sidelines, watching proudly, waiting patiently as music carried me round and round in never-ending circles.Dear Aunt Effie ... She died more than forty years ago. I will always remember her fondly, but I don't want to see her reflection in my bathroom mirror. It's a merciless reminder of how fast the years have gone.
Through it all, that unseen finger kept pushing the button that caused night shadows to fall across rooftops almost before morning sun finished peeking through backyard trees.
I saw her again this morning ... Aunt Effie, I mean. In my bathroom mirror. Her brown eyes were staring straight into my brown eyes. I leaned closer. She leaned closer. Our noses almost touched as I studied the wrinkled face I remembered from so many years before.
She was a sweet lady. Once, when I was fourteen and a guest in her home, she took me to the local skating rink and stood on the sidelines, watching proudly, waiting patiently as music carried me round and round in never-ending circles.Dear Aunt Effie ... She died more than forty years ago. I will always remember her fondly, but I don't want to see her reflection in my bathroom mirror. It's a merciless reminder of how fast the years have gone.
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