Friday, November 8, 2013
Time Be A River
This is a photograph of my Uncle Mike and Aunt Rosie on their wedding day, circa the late 40s. See that little kid in the front row, looking off camera? That's my father, and behind him are his parents, my grandmother and grandfather. My father looks as though he would rather be anywhere else on earth than posing for pictures. I've seen that same look on my own child, when I can get him to stand still.
The idea that my own father was once a child, and that my own child will one day be an adult with children of his own, always fills me with wonder as well as melancholy. It's quite a revelation to finally understand that all things are born, and all things must die, including the people we love. Most people shy away from ever thinking about death, and I'm no different on most days. But then I see photographs like this, and I understand that time is indeed a river, and all of us are fallen leaves floating wherever the current takes us.
Those who came before us aren't really gone; they're just downstream.