When you lose a loved one time becomes something you think about a lot, the time you had and the time you've lost. You think about happy times and sad times, the times when you wish you hadn't gotten so angry and the times you laughed until it felt your heart would explode.
The thing I've discovered about time is that it isn't linear. It is a living, moving thing that contracts and expands. We don't truly understand time, we put our human conceptions on it, count it in minutes and hours, days and weeks, but that's far too simplistic. We want to understand time, to fit it in a box of our making, yet we are unable to. How can we explain how sometimes memories from years ago can seem like last week, yet at other times much further away, how the days can drag but the weeks fly by, how it can feel that Lauren was here only last week and a lifetime ago.
I think of a time like a big piano accordion, not necessarily played by some celestial being, but I guess it could be if you like. Sometimes when it compresses we can almost touch the memories, at others times they are stretched so far out of reach that they almost feel like a dream.
One thing I do know is that time may slow, but it never stops. You will never have this exact moment ever again. Enjoy it if it is fun, and learn from it if it is not, but don't waste it.
"Life, if well lived, is long enough". Seneca
