“How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives. What we do with this hour, and that one, is what we are doing. A schedule defends from chaos and whim. It is a net for catching days. It is a scaffolding on which a worker can stand and labor with both hands at sections of time. A schedule is a mock-up of reason and order—willed, faked, and so brought into being; it is a peace and a haven set into the wreck of time; it is a lifeboat on which you find yourself, decades later, still living.”
These moments, they add up too quickly.
The years pass, the memories build until one day, all you have a lot of memories to talk about.
Somewhere, I heard that it has gotten to a point in our history that there will soon be no survivors from WWII. When the memory-keepers have all died, what happens to the history … will it be re-written? Is it possible it could be remembered as freshly as the days it all happened? Will future generations continue to learn lessons from their past? Yes, there are books, records, films and documents. Given enough time, too soon perhaps … the youth in their new eyes recognize the ages. They may not recognize the wisdom pressed between the aged pages.
We all eventually become new memory keepers.
We are luminous in our youth.
We become illustrious in our adolescence.
We become illuminated in our age.
Eventually our candles are whispered out by the breeze of time.