‘Quiet moments watching her, as she goes about her day. My thoughts are actually scanning years gone by, in another time when I was young and she was there, to show me the way, and keep me safe.
I’m certain, or am I? those days were filled with happy thoughts or was it the start of this present day state? Only heaven knows! But I’m as sure as the nose on my face that her love for me was as strong then as now, but, how do I know now? Her memories are fading like the falling leaves upon the whispers of time.
Who holds time in their hands, not you or I. We have the same hours in the day, but her time is times past, so where is her present time in hours? She was once a child, you know, with years yet to go, so if her memory serves her not, where is her time?
I am a product of her time, and yet her memories of me are fading, will I fade too? My time on this earth has been many days, hers even more, and yet she remembers few of them, how agonizing for me, and yet to give her good times in her few days remaining gives me pleasure. Is this pleasure to be also a whisper of time when her memory fails her?