I don't think I've become my father -- although every once in a while I see a ghost of him when I look in the mirror. What I see mostly, when I look in the mirror, is the gray hair, and how it's thinning, especially on top. And I think: Hmmm, maybe I don't have brown hair anymore, after all.
So do we become our parents? I don't know about that. But, to me anyway, it does seem that in recent years, time has taken on a different quality.
When I think back to when I was growing up . . . that does seem like a long time ago, I have to admit. It was over 50 years ago when I was in high school. That's as long as an historic era -- as long as the period between the Civil War and World War I.
But it doesn't seem that long ago when my kids were in high school, and Bill Clinton was president. And yet, my daughter has been out of high school for half her life. And my son almost so.
More recently, I recall our trip retracing the Oregon Trail. We spent several months planning the vacation -- deciding where we wanted to go, setting out the route, figuring where we wanted to stop, making reservations, contacting people. And then, suddenly, we were on the trip. The planning was over, and we were actually doing it. And now we're back. Did we really even ever do it? It is just a memory . . . or was it a dream?
On a smaller scale, I got the same feeling about my colonoscopy. It seemed like I had just had a colonoscopy. But, sure enough, five years had gone by. So I found myself making the appointment, doing the preparation (which seemed to take forever while I was doing it); then suddenly I'm there in the medical pavilion ... and it's over. I had two small polyps; they're gone; I'm good for another five years.
Of course, I'm glad that one's over. But . . . everything these days seems to slip by so quickly.
And now we're planning our summer trip to Cape Cod. Will it be over before I know it?
Pink Floyd isn't making exactly the same point -- and it's sure not the song B was whistling -- but if you're a Pink Floyd fan like I am, you'll appreciate what they're saying. For they remind us, "Every year is getting shorter ..."