I do hope this isn’t simply a factor of aging, but lately I seem to have lost my ability to keep track of time. I was always so good at remembering things like how many years ago we visited such-and-such a place, or where we spent Christmas four years ago. But the last several years of my life have suddenly blurred into one big event. I can no longer accurately mark time.
Over lunch with a friend recently, we talked about her daughter and both expressed shock that she is already 16. How the years fly! We talked about another friend who has since moved away and how vividly we remember going to see her new baby so many years ago. I realized that I have no idea how old this little boy is now. I guessed he was probably somewhere around 10 or 12, but my friend knew exactly. “He’s two years younger than my daughter. He’ll be 14 in March.” I felt guilty that I didn’t remember that.
Walking home after lunch, it dawned on me that my time amnesia might have a lot to do with not having children. My friend is reminded on a daily basis of how old her children are. She marks the passing of time with birthday parties, school grades, and childhood milestones. She knows how long ago something happened, because she knows how old her kids were, or what grade they were in at the time. She knows how old our friend’s son is because she remembers where she was on her motherhood path when our friend was pregnant. I don’t have that marker and so I have to try to fill in the gaps with other events, or news headlines to mark time in my memory. But unless something significant happened, I don’t have those milestones to grasp onto.
Without children to mark time and propel my life forward, I can see how easy it could be to drift through the years. Children create milestones and new direction and, while I’m not in any danger of falling into a rut yet, I can see how easily my life could lose direction.
Maybe I’ve just hit by a patch of melancholy again, so does anyone else see this? Do any of you feel as if your life is drifting by?
Yes. It’s like time doesn’t matter. It’s just coming and going without markers. It’s lonely when I walk into a schoolyard to pick up my niece/nephew. I think of this often while I’m standing there waiting for the bell to go off.
Throughout my life I’ve moved frequently, and I have dogs. So I remember when things happened by where I was living at the time and which dogs were alive and the point they were at in their lives (“let’s see, that was the year the basset had two strokes in one month and had to do underwater treadmill therapy to recover her walking ability”).
I do, however, remember how old the one child I miscarried would be at any given time, though. I’m especially aware of the landmark years, like when s/he would have turned 16 (learning to drive). But I don’t connect that might-have-been child’s age to the life events I’ve experienced.
I’m not sure. There definately isn’t those significant events, with children or grandchildren. Life isn’t really marked by life events that aren’t going to happen or never have. I suppose the life events have already happened like meeting a partner and marrying and tgen life almost goes on hold ununrealised dreams. Then those dreams are never going to be realised. Our life events are the hospital visits. Treatments early pregnancies if it happens then the pain of lose. But the difference I suppose that in a way we have had life events, but very painful ones. Ones that nobody really wants us to talk about as it makes them uncomfortable. So we can only mark our life events in our own heads or privately. We don’t get the chance to retell, unlike others. Sometimes we don’t want to retell because it’s too painful. It’s complicated. We live in a society that only wants to hear good news, that likes the norm and not the difference.
This really resonates with me. Growing up I was lucky to get to move frequency and see many parts of the country. I remember events from those days by where we lived. I have lived in our current home for 23 years with no specific markers for events. The time has melded into one big glob. I was reverently asked how many years I have been teaching and was shocked to realize this is my 29th year. Saying that number put loud was a heart stopper. I love my students and am so proud of their accomplishments, but I am still an outsider with my nose pressed against the glass. There are melancholy days when I wonder what I have to show for all of this time.
I understand the teaching part. But I can also say you will have made a huge difference to the children’s lives. I used to be a teacher but left 5 years ago. Although I don’t miss the system I do dearly miss the children and the relationship you build in gaining their confidence to help them on their way. But it can very much feel like looking through the window. But better than no contact at all.