Friday, August 23, 2013

Aprication

It's almost the end of August, and it's seemed like the entire season has been in wait for the culminating occasion that accompanies the end of the summer. In a time bereft of the time-consuming work schedule, somehow there hasn't been time enough to find words to fill the void that has been ever-expanding here.

It's weird, in a way, because lately I've noticed - somewhat to my dismay - that the leaves have already begun changing colours. Not that you can tell right off though; it's the usual way of change. The little tiny incremental shifting so that you don't notice it until it's completely different. Like looking in the mirror day after day - we don't really feel we look any different (other than the odd blemish that pops up now and then, perhaps), and yet when we reunite with someone we have not seen in many years (or maybe months) all you hear are those classic exclamations about how you've changed.

Oddly, I've always been the one to be told how I haven't.

But then again that's me and my curse (or blessing?) of Tinkerbell. Don't know what fairydust showered upon me that has made me retain my youthful face. Or rather, that's what everyone else tells me. If you ask me, I really and truly do feel aged. Outwardly and inwardly. But then again that's because it's me walking in my own shoes day in day out (except for those odd moments when I run around bare-footed).

Speaking of reuniting, I came face to face with a girl who I knew when I was much younger. We'd never been the type to bond as friends or anything, not really - being daughters of family friends, that usually is the case; polite gatherings and murmurings, and when you're young you don't really bother...

But somehow when we came face to face, it was like we were united in this strong bond, it was almost as if we hadn't been apart all those many, many years, and almost like we already were close. Perhaps that's just the way it works. I've found, as we all age, all the cousins and kids we used to be, the relationships either break entirely off or strengthen with that maturity of adulthood, because we're now able to form our own opinions, and not rely on what our elders dictate for how we're supposed to behave with so-and-so.

Take for example: my eldest cousin never was close to anyone in our family. He was always quite reserved, and always kept to himself. He went his own way oftentimes, and kept to his own room, whenever the rest of families got together. For years, mostly because of adult say-so, we had a somewhat negative impression of him. And him being so so many years older than us younger siblings, there existed that usual communication gap. Years later, now, I don't know what it is, but he is one of my favourite family members. Despite our differences in how we grew up, there is that affinity between us. He's very quiet-spoken, and you have to sit with him and talk, and that's when he'll open up when you least expect it. That's just one of the amazing things I've come to ponder about how things change when we grow.

So, that girl came back suddenly in the midst of the crowd with this odd look on her face; holding my arm, and she tells me in a rush, "I don't know when we'll next see one another........it's been so many years, and time has flown so quickly." I don't know why but it seemed perfectly normal to, and I naturally hugged her close and told her "It's okay, we'll recognize one another no matter how many years pass. Even when we're 60, we'll know it's us."

To my mind, time is such a magician. I'm not even certain if that's truly the word I mean to use. But there you have it. That's just one of many words I could have used, and who knows how my meaning would have changed if I had used one of the many other similar words that could have been used had I bothered to think harder. But that is just it; the more one considers time itself, the more obtuse and abstract one finds the mind becomes.  It's like falling in some kind of warphole, an ever-spinning matrix or kaleidoscope where direction has no vector.

The leaves have already begun changing, and I guess this is about simply appreciating the transition itself as an definite, rather than waiting for the terminals of change to arrive before doing so.