Facebook memories.
It’s so crazy how fast time moves. You don’t see it little by little, but when you look back on a year or two or more, you notice how much everything has changed. I see Caesar’s and Jeter’s face day by day and they always looks the same. I don’t notice the new gray hairs or how their eye color has dulled.
But then I see a Facebook memory. It’s 7 years ago and Caesar’s face is totally black (except for the white spot on his snout that has been there since birth, of course). Was it always that black? Now it’s so white.
It’s 9 years ago and Jeter is looking into the camera with the most brilliant ember eyes. They are a flat brown color now. When did that happen?
Caesar’s tan chest used to be nice gingerbread color; now, it’s the hue of a lightly toasted marshmallow.
Jeter’s face has grayed too, and he walks so stiffly.
They both still play. They both still run. They both still greet me at home in excitement when I walk through the door.
But time has done its work on them. 10 and 11 years—it’s gone so fast.
I see another Facebook memory and I recall what we were doing like it was yesterday. Caesar, at 1 year old, digging in the sand of the pond while Chewbacca (now gone for 4 years) runs in the background.
Jeter, weeks after I brought him home, at 5 months old, laying on his back taking a nap—not a care in the world.
It might as well be a lifetime away. And for Caesar and Jeter it is.
How can something move so slowly yet so quickly at the same time? Time marches on. It stops for no one; no one is safe from it.
If only we could pause it just for a bit to soak in more time with the things we treasure most, especially when those things are so limited in time anyway.
“This thing all things devours;
Birds, beasts, trees, flowers;
Gnaws iron, bites steel;
Grinds hard stones to meal;
Slays king, ruins town,
And beats mountain down.” –J.R.R Tolkien, The Hobbit