writer

Time Waits for No one

It was fifty years ago – how can it be that long ago? Sometimes it seems like a lifetime away, and sometimes it seems like only yesterday – I met a boy. I had a crush on Paul McCartney at the time.

But when I saw B-, all thoughts of Paul faded away. B- had grey eyes, a startling color and curly dark hair. He wore grey cord pants. I fell in love, at first sight.

We – my friend and I – were on our way to British Columbia, and our stop in the city of Calgary was accidental.

Meeting him was an accident too. We had taken a wrong turn, and our trip to B.C. was postponed.

We spent the night listening to the radio, and talked and talked. He was funny and happy and I fell in love. Well, as in love as a naive sheltered girl can be.

When my friend and I left the next day, to carry on to B.C., I didn’t want to go!

But fate and necessity carried us on.

I have often wondered what happened to B-.

What was his life like? Did he become an airline pilot, as he dreamed? He was handsome enough to be an actor.

I would not want to see him now, I don’t think. I would not want him to know how my life turned out, shortly after I left. He had spoken of all the wonderful things he imagined for me!

I want to remember him as he was back then. Young and truly beautiful. I know that it is unusual to speak of a man or boy as ”beautiful” but oh my! he was!

I don’t want to think that he is old, like me. I don’t want to believe that he is bald, with a paunch and lost dreams.

I want to remember him – to remember us – as young and idealistic, with our lives before us.

We can’t ever go back, and that is probably for the best.

If you are younger than I am, please take away from this, that I wish you all the dreams and happiness and experiences that your heart can hold.

Treasure each moment, because those moments never come again.

Yesterday

Out of the past to the present

Comes a sad sweet song from afar.

Back from a world of yesterdays,

Down from a blue white star.

It comes across the ages.

Oh! Hark my soul and be still.

Back from the days of long ago,

A voice floating down from the hill.

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