I think the first time that I truly understood how fast time passed was a little over a year ago. I had purchased a copy of several Charlie Chaplin films and, as I was watching them, I had a moment of realization when it occurred to me that all of the young faces that I was looking at had all passed from this world. I had actually written about this in my MySpace blog the night it occurred to me (for those that read it). His earliest films all came from in or around 1914, the year that my great-grandmother had come here from Poland, which, when I was younger, didn't seem like that far away. Of course, my great-grandmother was also still alive at that point. I guess she was that bridge from the 19th Century that made it seem not that far off. Well, 1914 is coming up on it's centennial and my great-grandmother's been dead for just about 18 years now.
I have been watching an exquisite copy of the new Cohen Brothers film No Country For Old Men and the whole point of the film brings me back to this thought. Latter on in the film two old men talk over coffee about the changing of the tide as how they seem not to fit anymore, like the proverbial square peg in a round hole. You can't stop what's coming. The sudden onset of pain in my hands has been irking me. It only makes me guess what the longer end of the road holds.
The door begins to creak, the spine soon tingles, and the mind withers like flowers out of the sun, their day well beyond them.