Time

         Time. They say it waits for no man. I don't know who this “they” is that everyone always talks about but “they” know more than anyone on the planet. Even though time waits for no man, for some it seems to drag on. That's how I feel my parents see time. Never ending as they coast through their remaining years. Twenty-five years ago my parents adopted me. Twenty-five years ago, they were much younger. Back then Mom could walk through our vast backyard and pick the pears off of the trees or walk to the mailbox and grab the one or two bills that were probably there. Even though they complained about the bills, they were glad to be getting something. Even the occasional Publishers Clearing House letter was welcome. Dad used to mow at least twice a week, making sure the yard was in pristine condition. After that he'd make his way to the garage and crack open a few beers, go inside after, and sit down for dinner and the news with Mom. Nowadays Dad has dementia and Mom sits around complaining about how he can't seem to remember what he did that morning. To me it's kind of funny though. I see them bicker about the tiny things in life and it makes me wonder if that's how I'm going to turn out when I'm their age.
         “Margie, do you remember where I put my hat? I can't find the damned thing.”
         “Well where was the last place you remember having it, Alfred.”
         “Damn it woman, if I knew that I wouldn't be asking you where its at!”
         “Don't you yell at me old man! Walk outside and see if you left it out there.”
         “I've already walked out there and I didn't see it.”
         I walk in to the room and start listening to the conversation as it goes on, not really making any headway in the location of the now dreaded hat. After a few more minutes of the bickering, I walk out into the garage and there, on the washing machine, is the hat. Sitting out as plain as day. I feel like most people look at that and say to themselves 'Oh how sad' but not me. I look at it and say 'Just another day'. My point in telling you this story isn't for pity or for sadness, its to remind you about the fragile nature of the world. To remind you that we are man and we are mortal, we are all at the mercy of time.