Through the course of my life my imagination has tended to wander off on occasion, never telling me when it was going to, and never telling me when it might return. Often times I was left standing there, all alone, or so it seemed, and as my mind wandered hither and farther than it did the last time, I often wondered how on earth it ever did find its way back to where I was, or where I had been. It usually didn’t remember leaving, nor did it remember where its original destination was. All it knew was that it had proved once again how independent it was, how original it could become, and how much it irritated me in not knowing when it was planning on leaving again.
It loves to, my mind that is, to travel back to my childhood, back to the days of Little Falls, back to the carefree days and worryless nights of my youth. My mind loves to head down this road we call home, Battleridge, take a left onto the Upper Bellsqueeze, another left, down to the interstate south, over the Kennebec River, past the Auburn exit, past the Windham traffic circle, past the old Sawyer’s Variety, up Bracket Street, around the corner and taking a right onto Stevens Road where our amazing home was.
Those were some of the grandest times a child could ever have had. Those were the times when a summer’s day could last forever, and those were the days when the days leading up to Christmas could drag on until the end of time. Time sure did seem to weave its magic into the fabric of my innocence back then, and now that I think of it, it does from time to time today as well.
I’ve written about time a few times, how it comes and goes, how it lends and steals, how it fools and teaches, and how sometimes, it’s about the only dependable thing you can seem to find.
I have been blessed with the years of a 55 year old billy goat, and the time it’s taken for these 55 years to build up. I am blessed that my family is all still with me, beside me, leading me on, cheering me through, and loving me as only a family can do. I am grateful that so many of my memories revolve around my family, and I am forever in awe of just how many ways they all have filled the nooks and crannies of my heart. I’m a lucky man for these things, and I hope some day I can realize exactly the love I feel for each of them, as different as it may be, and how it all adds up to a complete and endless image of perfection, Lyons style.
My father has entered into a very difficult time in his life. His years have led him into this period of his life very slowly, but yet very quickly, or so it seems. I have been caught off guard by these times, and find it hard to believe that the years have piled up so fast.
My father has grown into one of the most powerful souls that a man could ever know. He has given up so much, so that he can be of benefit to so much more. He has become the man I some day hope to be, and he has shown me the things I need to know, without me even knowing it.
Time has a way of teaching us all what is most important in our lives. Some times we tend to overlook those moments, shrugging them off as coincidental, or perhaps meant for someone else. Sometimes we focus on the bad things in our lives while our own negativity blinds us to those blessings that are standing there with their arms folded, quietly tapping their feet in disbelief of how we could overlook those things that are so clearly marked in time. Sometimes we need to experience the hardships in order to fully realize and fully appreciate the true gifts that life has bestowed upon us.
I love my father and thank God for lending him to me. I am growing old with hope that as I look upon my father on this day, my son may someday also look upon me.
And so, time moves on.