Time After Time

“Time after time, I tell myself that I’m so lucky to be loving you.” Rod Stewart’s lyrics drifted ethereally in the air. The word “Time” became caught in my mind and played repeatedly. It made me question my existence.

What had I accomplished with my time on earth? Was my signature emblazoned in huge letters in the sky for all to see? Was I important? Did I have a place in the universe? No Oscar adorned the mantelpiece, I had not written a marvellous best seller, won the Nobel Peace Prize, found a cure for cancer, or fought against Covid-19. Was it enough to be happily married, bring children and grandchildren into the world? Propagating the earth, was that a means of leaving a legacy? 

Once I had thought that we were put on earth to help each other. Yet was this enough? Had I helped my fellow men in some way, in some miniscule way?  Some infinitesimally miniscule way? 

As I grew older time speeded up and yet….? The sand grains of time were falling at a dizzy speed and I felt that I too was tumbling towards death. 

Where had these bleak thoughts come from? Enough! I needed to live in the present. My husband stole up hugging me from behind and I realised that I had not accomplished anything earth shattering, but perhaps worth was based also on what you had not done. I had not killed anyone, committed a crime or broken the Ten Commandments. In a little way, I had done my modest part for Mother Earth. Conservatively I had used energy, rode a bike rather than a car, composted and enthusiastically followed the Three Rs- Reduce, Reuse and Recycle. So was this enough – to love my husband and practice conservation? It was enough for me, I thought as I smiled and hung clothes on the line. 

“Time after time, I tell myself that I’m so lucky to be loving you.”