Blogging from A to Z
T is for Time
Time can be measured on a clock, stopwatch, or calendar. Time can be measured in the growth of a tree. Or a canyon.
Time passes and that's what I want to tell you about.
I went to a funeral for a cousin. While that's sad, it isn't the saddest part. The funeral was nice but also more informal than some of the others I've been to. After the "official" part was over, the floor was opened to anyone who wanted to speak. Beautiful words were spoken, funny stories were told and I learned that my cousin was more than I thought she was. The speaker I remember most was a girl, my cousin's age or thereabouts.
She and my cousin met in college and she told college-type stories then she said that she had gotten a job in another city. My cousin was happy for her and they vowed to stay in touch.
But time passed.
The towns were not that far apart but between dating, job assignments, vacations, and other obligations, they got together less and less. The girl had been in town six months before the funeral but was under a time crunch and didn't even call my cousin. After all, she could always call later. There would always be another trip to town.
There was one more trip to town.
For the funeral.
Time passes for us all.
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