Time and its passing frightens me. Frighteningly, we have no control over the hands of a clock. When waiting for a pot to boil, a doctor to call or a baby to be born, time seems to move backwards. On the other hand, when raising a child, celebrating an event or looking in the mirror, time flies by on hummingbird-like wings. When I was younger I watched a soap opera that started each episode with a sand timer and the words, "like the sands through the hourglass, so are the days of our lives." It had little meaning to a mother of an infant and a two year old who never gave the passage of time a second thought. I figured there would always be another day to play with my kids or call my mother.
Unfortunately, I learned that isn't true. Beth is now busy playing with her kids, and Mike, the son I missed when he was as close as the corner pre-school, now lives 1200 miles away. My mom and Arthur's parents are gone, and the clock keeps ticking. Today I ran into a student from one of my first years of teaching. We reminisced about English class twenty years ago, and she told me that her daughter just graduated high school. How can that be? Wasn't it just yesterday that she and I were debating the merits of Shakespeare?
The good news is...I have learned to appreciate each minute that I am lucky enough to experience. Arthur and I travel, take nature walks whenever possible, enjoy each other's company and laugh together often. My sister Judy and I designate each Tuesday as "sister day," and no one better try to get in our way. Beth became an English teacher too, and I enjoy my time with her now more than ever. Of course I will always miss Michael when he is away from me, but when he is in Florida he stays with us and we have 24/7 time together. We still talk about movies, T.V. And sports, and now when he acts as my psychologist, he has a doctorate to back him up.
Speaking of time passing, time passes for FBI agent Raymond O'Hara in Richard Hilary Weber's novel, F Train, and he finds himself retired and sharing drinks in a bar. One night, while waiting for the F train, he glances into one of the cars and sees seven obviously dead bodies. Poisonous gas, a hard working detective and some interesting back stories make for a good read.
The only way that time figures into The Wrong Man by Kate White, is by my lack of it. This has been a hectic week for me, filled with out of town guests, two birthday parties (Happy Birthday Allan and Pearl), Father's Day brunch (Park Tavern in Delray Beach puts out a great brunch menu) and several other happenings. I just didn't have time to read two complete books. I did review The Wrong Man even though I still have pages " to go before I sleep"( thank you Robert Frost). I read enough to know you should enjoy this book and its charming heroine.