Solstice 2018: The Now

A guest post by Karen, December 2018

I love this photo of my parents, Ellie and Bob, circa 1980—give or take. My Mom looks like a bit of a badass. (She isn’t—she’s one of the sweetest people in the world). My dad looks like he is there, but also far away. They look so 80s, so Sopranos, so Jersey.

This was half a lifetime ago. In the photo they are in their 40s. Today, my dad is 82; my mom, 78. I’m older than they were in this picture.

I find myself in what feels like a time bubble. My parents are well. My kids are well. All the cells in my body are doing their jobs. It will not—it cannot—stay this way. Something will happen. We will not be together on this planet forever. I hate that. But, I don’t want to let in the fear, the dread. I’m appreciating the bubble, jumping on a lot of airplanes—for as many hugs as I can get.

Is time real? Is it an illusion? Where are the Ellie and Bob in this photo?

I heard the repeat of an old episode of the Radio Lab podcast this week and came upon this quote from Einstein, consoling the family of his best friend after his friend’s death:

“Now he has departed from this strange world a little ahead of me. That signifies nothing. For those of us who believe in physics, the distinction between past, present and future is only a stubbornly persistent illusion.”

Apparently, the physicists (at least some of them) think every moment is and is forever.

Isn’t that what it feels like?

When I imagine being a kid—roller skating to disco in the empty garage with my sister, watching fireworks on a summer night at the Jersey shore—those experiences still feel real. Are these memories (just a bunch of neurons in my brain) or do these moments still exist somewhere?

I don’t know. Maybe Einstein knew. I’m going with Einstein.

It’s almost the darkest day of the year. With the grey and the rain around me, I’m grateful for my past, my present, my future. Grateful for the good fortune that I exist.

And I’m grateful for this time bubble. I am going to nestle very, very gentle into this bubble. Bubbles break so easily. But they are real. And this one is so very precious.

—  —  —

Karen is a daughter, wife, granddaughter, sister, friend and mother of two people who are almost adults.  By trade, she is a consultant to nonprofit organizations—helping them plan, imagine and grow. She loves reading, walking, meditating and spending time with family and friends.
 
Photo:  Bob and Ellie in the 80s.