time

Trying to stay awake...

sleepy.jpg

I can't hang anymore. Nor do I want to.

I could barely hang to ring in the New Year. And I've become a two-drink wonder. What's happening?

"Age, my friend."

Perhaps it's the habits I should be changing or the diet that should've happened 5 years ago.

Sometimes you just have to surrender to Father Time and play the adjustment game. And let it go. Just let it go.

 

 

Time is like...

Time is like Santa Claus,

It comes and goes without a trace in sight,

Time is like Pharrell,

It never ages,

Time is like Shaq's free throws,

It never changes for better or for worse,

Time is like a high school yearbook,

It brings back memories of good and bad,

Time is like Trump's Twitter,

It just never stops,

Time is like our youth,

It just goes by too quickly,

Time is like love,

You just wish there was more of it.

How much "mom" time is left?

"It turns out that when I graduated from high school, I had already used up 93% of my in-person parent time. I’m now enjoying the last 5% of that time. We’re in the tail end." - Wait But Why

It occurred to me as I woke up this morning, perhaps from a dream or nightmare, but I asked myself the question, "How many days does mom or dad have left on this planet?"

Frightening thought.

It brought me back to a powerful Wait Buy Why article, "The Tail End," that depicted how much time we have left with mom and dad in pictures. It hadn't occur to me that moving away for college and life would mean that I had already used up 93% of my in-person parent time. Occasional holiday visits would be the only time to congregate with family and even then, I remember those home visits during my early to mid 20s were used to hang out with friends. How young and irresponsible of me.

tailend.png

How much "in-person" time we have left with our parents...

That's why I'm making it a priority to spend as much time with my parents while I'm around. They have this amazing story of perseverance growing up under poverty and hardships during the Cultural Revolution and eventually making it to America to provide a better life for my sister and me. I'm extremely grateful and currently working on a project to document these stories while I still can.

Time and Regret...Lessons from Mr. Roper

Time.jpg

 

"Look at me! I'm 59 now and 30 years just passed by...Don't you ever have any regrets!"

 

I was shocked. Mr. Roper, who had been cracking jokes in the barbershop for the past hour, suddenly just broke down in front of me. I'll never forget those sorrowful eyes staring straight into mine...tears of regret.

I was staying in an Airbnb in Queens (NYC), which was conveniently located next to a barbershop and where some of the Airbnb guests hung out at night. What a magical place. You could smell the history of Queens and NYC envelop you the moment you walked. A flashback in time from the antiquated black-and-white photos to the chairs that stood the test of time. Mr. Roper was a storyteller who captivated us with his life stories in the 1960s...from the social movements that brewed to the crack era...it was the type of stories one could only imagine, especially being seated in a 100-year old family-run barbershop.

....but then it turned somber. Mr. Roper suddenly grabbed me by the arm and looked me in the eye with the most remorseful look...

 

"Time, man! Time just passes! Look at me! I'm 59 now and 30 years just passed. Look at ya'll. Still so young...but this is what you should be doing! Traveling...don't you ever have any regrets!"

 

Dead silence. While many of his stories were jovial in nature, Mr. Roper did express many regrets (that I won't go into). We continued listening, comforting, and thanking him for his hospitality and when the night was over, Mr. Roper gave me a firm good-bye handshake...

 

"I'm so glad ya'll came. Don't you ever forget about the time."

 

And that was good-bye. But it's a lesson and a stare I'll never forget. Thanks for the lesson, Mr. Roper...I won't forget about the time.