One Minute a Year

We've gotten into the habit of going to Edisto Beach each year for a week. We enjoy it tremendously and I have developed a personal fondness for the locale. In fact, we jokingly say (in all seriousness) that when we win the lottery, that's where you'll find us... if we want to be found.

Each year, on the last day, when we're leaving the beach, I pause a moment and think. I think about how thankful I am to be there. I think about how fast the year has been and how quickly life moves us along. I think about how the ocean doesn't care much about me... it's doing it's think right now whether I'm there or not. I think about the end of "The Time Machine" when the guy is on the shore and the sun has stopped moving and the Earth has died off. I think about the immensity of life before me and how I worry about the mortgage payment or whatever the crisis de jour is.

This year, I chronicled my goings on for the month before. As usual, it's too much long, too much stupid, too much embarrassing, too much... "too". Looking back, I see that all I really did was sweat and wait to get there. I guess I missed a lot of life waiting for one brief moment. It was a good one, though...