Monday, September 17, 2012


There are lots of clocks in my grandpas office. They tick, second hand jumping, not at all simultaniously. TICK tick tick TICK. I count four of them. And I think about time.

What time is it? That was a long time ago. I don't have enough time. One time. Time to get up. What time do you want me to be there? 

Dr. Who says that time is a big ball of timey wimey... stuff. To God time must be very much like the Dr. described. He knows everything from the begining to the end. He doesn't have to wait for something to happen. It's not like a timeline that He has to wait on, He allready knows. I, on the other hand, see time quite the normal way. Like a time line, one day after the other. Can't go back, can't go forward. I forget the past, and don't know the future.

What marks the time? My memories. Back when we lived in South Carolina seems like another life. It was such a long time ago.

I remember Tab's Iceream Shop. If you turned left at the stop light and went past J.D. Linns, the Crown and Shell gas stations, the place where the old library used to be, before the big purple church on the left and before the Army Surplus store.... at the bottom of the hill, was a small diner with a few outdoor seats on a cracked concrete pad with weeds growing up and no sun shade. Inside it was loud and busy. A lady inside a little window, it reminded me of the bank, took our orders. Another lady, middle aged, with rough blonde hair, and tired looking behind the counter shouted across the resturaunt when an order was up. She had on a white dress, it was the diners uniform. It was just Dad, my younger brother, and sister and I. We took our icecream cones out to the neglected patio. There was a pole covered with kudzoo growing just outside of the fence. After I finished my cone I showed off to Dad and did some cartwheels I learned from gymnastics. He told me to be careful because of the concrete. When we were all finished we went through the little gate out to the feild. We played Chinese Freeze Tag. It was fun with Dad because he always knocked you over when he tried to crawl underneith your legs to get you un-frozen. The grass was very tall. And itchy. There were woods at the end of the feild. It was in the evening and it was just getting dark. We stopped our game of tag to catch fire flys.

Things like that. That is what marks my time. Memories are history. And all this time, from the time I was born, even before that, till now; clocks have been ticking. And God knew even before my parents were born, that one time, Dad was going to take us out to Tab's.

TICK tick tick TICK.

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