Some perspective on aging, passing of time
I’ve been thinking of things from the perspective of age and the passing of time, especially as I was about to flip my desk calendar page from July to August, which occurs with a healthy mix of resistance and reluctance on my part.
No summer, no! You must stick around, I issue out loud the request/command/appeal/order to no one in particular who’s listening, except for me, of course.
I’m enjoying summer and the heat and humidity and all.
Let’s not get in a great big old hurry about falling into fall, which is way better than winter, don’t get me wrong.
I am no fan of that Ohio weather category that claims the Buckeye State has but two seasons — “winter and winter’s coming.”
Weather conditions aside, we have a lot of summer birthdays in our family.
Our son Adam, for example, turned 32 in July. Hard to believe.
He says he feels good, and he feels young.
I am very happy for him regarding both personal assessments.
My sister Cathy, meanwhile, turned 72 in July. She is 10 years my senior.
Unlike my son, my sister has not expressed feeling as Adam does, but I believe her to be embracing both sentiments with gusto.
On July 28, my dad would have celebrated his 100th birthday, having been born in 1920. It was occasion to call siblings and say, Can you believe that — Dad would have been having a centennial celebration! A hundred candles on a cake. That’s what you’d call seeing the light.
Talk about a toast being in order, and I’m not talking about crispy wheat bread with butter on it.
Great Earth. Dad was 38 when I was born, a car salesman at Winston Motors in Steubenville, so my birth certificate notes his occupation.
My brother David says wouldn’t it be something to be able to have some conversation and a cold one with Dad and his brothers — Uncle Howard and Uncle Red. The Hout boys.
Yes, that would be something.
I mentioned to my daughter Sarah, who is turning 31 this month, that 31 was how old I was when I had her.
That seems like a long time ago, yesterday if that makes sense.
She gave me this wide-eyed funny little Sarah look at making that connection. That perspective.
I also mentioned to her that 31 years later, I’m still just as immature and ill prepared to be a mother, but I stuck with the job and did the best I could.
I’m glad I gave it a go.
It’s funny how we have a hard time thinking we could ever have been the same age as our parents.
Some people might think time has slowed down because of this whole coronavirus pandemic bringing life as we know it to a halt.
But I’d say time marches on, just in a different way and at a different pace.
One thing’s for sure — 2020 has proven to be a bad year for a calendar planner.
Any dates that were on there got scratched off, scrawled over, rescheduled, postponed, put off, not going to happen as planned.
Except for birthdays, of course.
But time’s irrelevant any way, right? … unless you’re under deadline pressure to finish a column in a “timely” fashion.
(Kiaski, a resident of Richmond, is a staff columnist and community editor for the Herald-Star and The Weirton Daily Times. She can be contacted at firstname.lastname@example.org.)