The morning
Time never pauses.
Moments become years and then quickly pass with only a blink. Recently I attended the memorial service for someone who walked through my life and left a mark. It was a good mark, one of love, one of goodness, one of spirit, and one that was always full of human originality. This was the third service I'd attended in a little less than two years.
These celebratory, we'll miss you kind of services seem far more frequent than I'd prefer. As more and more yesterdays hurriedly pass me by, I suppose that's to be expected. Each service is always for someone I'd spent far more casual ordinary days with than monumental memorable moments. In the end, it's those regular days that seem to matter the most anyway.
Even for those that I lost touch with for a few years... some even more than that, recounting all of those shared days of laughter is always the greatest of reunions. Memories like those are the most genuine, honest, and in their own unique way, oddly tangible. Regardless if you can see them or not, just hold and keep them safe.
Time never pauses.