It didn’t occur to me until a few minutes ago that the top of the dresser was where her changing area had been, where she’d laid on her back laughing as an infant while I did what you had to do, made the requisite faces of funny horror – stinky! – then stuffed the offal down the diaper genie, and picked her up and gone on with our day. She’ll be a senior in high school sitting at a desk in that spot and I’ll still remember that like it was yesterday. Time is linear, but so is a piece of string – take two points far apart, put your fingertips together. It was yesterday. Makes you envy dogs, sometimes; everything is now and next. There is no then.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Time and Timing
Coming up on J's first birthday, this post shows up in my feed from James Lileks' Bleat. His daughter is 10, I think.