Where does the time go?

You know, something that has been a recurring thought lately is: where does time go? Suddenly, as if I have always been fifty, I realize that it was 22 years ago when we moved into our first house. Donnita and I were living in an apartment that I had finagled from a management company in a horse trade when my son Jacob was born. Those were the days. Not a pot to pee in, the oil field had just gone bust and I was determined to make it. My brother loaned me the money to buy a trailer and a steam cleaner with a 500 gallon water tank on it so I could make some money. Houston's covered in mildew, and all I could see out there in front of me was a sea of work, just waitin' for some cleanin' by me. What I didn't realize was that all this had to be done in the dark of night. So, every night about 2:30 am, I would get up and go clean sidewalks and driveways until the sun would finally come up and I'd get chased away by store owners and the like showing up to open their businesses. I must say that I got to where I could actually tell the difference between the type of gum I was blasting off. When it was heated up, you could smell spearmint or peppermint, apple or watermelon. And it never ceased to amaze me what pigs people can be. I just realized why, to this day, it irks me to no end to see people spit on a sidewalk, and especially spit out their gum on one. I remember how excited I was when Donnita bought me an FM radio with little headphones so I could listen to music while my brain wasted away looking at concrete and gum particles washing down into the gutter. The year was 1983 and we moved out of the apartment because we caught a cockroach crawling on the baby crib. We may have been poor, but no cockroach was going to cohabit our house. Everyone was young and still went out western dancing, but that gradually stopped as more kids were born and families started anew. At that point , things began to focus around kids birthdays at pizza parlors and weddings of other folks we knew. Many of those marriages have long since dissolved, probably for good reason, thankfully most without kids involved. As time passed, everyone started chasing the almighty dollar and moving around to new houses and new cars and trucks. The kids got broken bones and had missing teeth and the parents started losing hair and getting fatter. The bills got fatter, too. And still, I had no success in business for any length of time. With one last effort, our old house in Spring was sold and off we went to El Paso to start over with a clean slate. I thought. Had I known at the time what I was getting myself into, I would have gone to work for Home Depot. Countless days and weeks and months and years of struggling to pay bills with little in sight save more bills and more months and years of struggling. I found it much like being put in prison without parole. Then, one day things began to improve. Kind of like twinkling starlight, I wondered if I really saw it . But ya... there it was, a little tiny light urging me on as if daring me to leave the tunnel of darkness I had been in for so long. As the light has shown brighter, I am starting to see many things more clearly now, than ever before. Those around me that I value, and those who are best left alone. I have even considered, for the first time in my life, forgiving my father for leaving me when I was nine years old. Nothing can fill the void but I do know that he didn't die on purpose and that is comforting at least. And I know that I got this temper from somebody other than my mom. I also know that I learned to persevere on my own, through years in the weight room getting in shape for the football games that my father never saw me play and that my mom hardly knew existed. So, I did gain something from being left to fend for myself. You know what I find interesting? I always feel sympathy for kids from single mom families and I'm never sure why. Maybe I've even learned a smidgeon of compassion. In any case, time has flown by and we are no longer on the uphill side of life. I keep getting reunion notices that remind me that as much as people pursue wealth and material things, they are haunted by the fact that they have let friendships and family drop by the wayside because they didn't have the time. Well, better make time now, or their will be no friendships when we are old and gray. I know one thing is certain. I have told my sons as many times as they will listen those three little words. And I need to tell my wife, too. "I love you." Say it now while you have time. None of us knows how much of that prized commodity we have. And, after all, time does fly.