Where Does The Time Go?

OK. I can handle getting older. For MYSELF. I have resigned myself to cragginess; even embraced it. It's kind of a demerit badge of honor for me. But what I cannot handle is the aging of my daughter. Those of you who know my baby girl know that she is my hero. I often like to say that, when I grow up, I'm going to be her. Fat Chance, but it's a nice idea. I could never be who she is. She is an an adult. I just play at it. She is smart and beautiful and kind and every other thing that I am not. I couldn't be she if I had a total body transfusion. a brain replacement AND a personality-ectomy. And my hero is now engaged. She will marry a fine young man in less than 5 months. This perfect person is about to create her own family. What happened? Did I fall asleep and wake up 26 years later? Where does the time go? Tempus fugit, they say, so carpe diem and gather them doggone rosebuds because life is ephemeral. It makes me think that perhaps I should be about gathering. And perhaps learning latin. But what is there to gather? Stamp collections? Rare books? Hummel figurines? I know the answer to that. And so do you. My only little girl is an adult now. And as I age, I can honestly say that I've learned more from her than I have ever taught her. She will make the world a slightly better place. This is all any of us can aspire to. May we all contribute small great things that make a positive difference. This is my old lady prayer.