“In the age of speed, there's something to be said of slowing down." ~Kristen Butler
Youth can walk faster, but the elder knows the road. ~African Proverb
We are linked in our humanity the way the earth holds a tree, so that tree can hold a nest, so that nest can hold a bird, so that bird can drop a seed that will in time give birth to the next tree.
In a world of disposable things, I cling to the past of what was. I love the history of my youth, the games we played outdoors until dusk had turned to darkness. The simple parts of a carefree childhood that linger into the present when we gather and reminisce of days gone by. But the speed of our age is ever changing, and as times slips by, I reach for the memory of what was.
What is it I want to remember when I fall into melancholy? Examining the lessons of our past, taking notes and sharing in the hopes that it will remain for the next generation to remember. It hurts to know how many stories are lost in death, so many untold layers from our parents and grandparents. Details I’d love to know, like their favorite childhood memory, or what brought them happiness, even the struggles that they learned from. But like a library burning down, once they are gone, everything unsaid goes with them. As time tumbles by we turn to our genealogy, on a quest for more information.
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