Who Knows Where Time Goes?

Funny how time flies. I'm just starting to get used to being back, work, and my life when I realize how fast it all went--the past few weeks, and years.

A week ago I was assembling my belongings on the 3rd floor of Over Street in Brighton preparing for the dreaded farewells of the next morning . Three weeks ago I was in the air, eagerly anticipating a long put off reunion with life long friends. One-hundred and four weeks ago I was walking my little girl into her "new" school after a particularly tough year on her and me for the start of 2nd grade. She had seen her parents split up and was now in a different school, a different house(s), and quite simply a different "place" because of the many changes in her little life. I know this because my life is kind of catalogued in this blog, and I'm able to time travel back to that day and all its contrastingly bittersweet moments. And though it's been two years since I last spoke to my dad on his birthday I still remember the day, the call, and the conversation. The changes of that summer were obviously tough on my daughter, but me as well, because aside from the divorce, I had spent the better part of July and early August in Philadelphia by my father's bedside as he slowly made a recovery from what appeared at the time as the abyss. It was a very bewildering time, away from my daughter, starting a new life single again, and then driving each day through my childhood, only to have to conjure even more painful memories of a childhood illness spent in the very same hospital I was visiting each day.

My dad would have been 74 today, so yes time truly does fly. PinF will celebrate the day just as he would've wanted. I'll get on down to my beach after work, the same beach I took him to and probably crack a cool one and remember some of the funnier and happier times, like the crazy off the wall matinee's at the Springfield Inn in sea Isle City, N.J. Though time has dulled the pain is hasn't filled the void; still, my memories are now colored in with more laughs than tears. Still to this day Sophia tells me she misses pop-pop, funny since she really had more of a phone relationship. Though when they were together she did really enjoy him, partly I guess since she was an only child. I think she tended to attach a greater connection from herself-to me-to my father. He was crazy about her too.

So there it is. Time has indeed gotten away from the PinF, a fact made ever apparent after visiting his friends in Europe. Though they've all aged by two decades, they still remain in the youthful and timeless glow of my ever aging memory; as must I in their memories. And so does the memory of my father on this his birthday, August 10. He's still that strong 30 something year-old guy standing in front of Barneget Lighthouse on LBI that summer of '71 with three of his sons. And so he remains, tan, strong, healthy and young. My old man loved music and for sure he'd be listening to some on his day. I'm listening to one of his favorites now, quite by coincidence really--Judy Collins. Still it couldn't be more appropriate for this post.

Across the morning sky,

All the bird are leaving,

Ah, how can they know it's time for them to go?

Before the winter fire,

We'll still be dreaming.

I do not count the time

Who knows where the time goes?

Who knows where the time goes?

Sad deserted shore,

Your fickle friends are leaving,

Ah, but then you know it's time for them to go,

But I will still be here,

I have no thought of leaving.

I do not count the time

Who knows where the time goes?

Who knows where the time goes?

And I'm not alone,

While my love is near me,

And I know,it will be so,till it's time to go,

So come the storms of winter ,

and then the birds in spring again.

I do not fear the time

Who knows how my love grows?

Who knows where the time goes?

Happy birthday dad, you are missed and warmly remembered.