It’s odd how you can leave a friend for nine years, then feel surprised when he turns up looking a decade older. In fact, you feel betrayed, as if he’s aged you along with him, and personally dragged you a decade closer to the grave. (Ian Weir. Daniel O’Thunder. p. 61)
I chuckled when I read this paragraph.
I suppose it shouldn’t surprise us that our friends and family members are aging as the years go by. It’s always a surprise when some young relative appears to have shot up several inches in height, dropped a voice an octave, or turned from girl to woman. We ponder that we ourselves haven’t changed at all, and yet those kids prove just how much time is going by.
Gathering with old friends also reminds us how time doesn’t matter. We may not have seen each other in a decade, but the relationships are easy and natural. Shared history makes an easy link and conversations are picked up as if they were left yesterday.
Time marches on, but what are we doing with the time? Are we marching closer to the grave without anything to show for our time here, or are we making the most of the years, leaving a legacy for those who follow?