Lisha Cassibo has been writing for the Uxbridge Cosmos for two years, both as a freelancer and as a columnist. She has also written for several parenting magazines both here in Canada and for English publications in Switzerland. She graduated from Carleton University with an honours degree in Journalism and English Literature. She lives with her family in Sunderland.
Clocks
Well, here we are, fresh back at work, back at school, back at the routine of life that fills our Septembers to Junes. And the ever-popular refrain that echoes in the places where we meet those we haven't seen during the heady dog-days of summer starts up - “So, how was your summer?” A fairly innocuous phrase, to be sure. Most responses are usually “Good, and yours?” or “Busy, and yours?” or (if you're one of my children) “Totally boring, and yours?” (that's a lie, they had a busier summer than the American presidential candidates). It seems that this summer, however, had something special about it, something that I can't quite put my finger on. Nor can anyone else, it seems, because whenever I have asked this to-be-expected question of anyone I meet of late, the conversation goes like this:
“Hi, how are you? How was your summer?”
“Hi, great! But it went so fast!”
“I know! What happened?”
What did happen? Why was this summer so much faster than any other in recorded history? Why did it fly by with so much more speed that any other in recent memory? Why is everyone making the same comment, that summer only began a few short seconds ago, and here we are listening back-to-school ads and stocking up on juice boxes?
July had the requisite number of days in it. So did August. I checked many different calendars and not one of them seemed to rip off any days or short change the world on weeks. Heck, August had not one but two full moons to its credit - now that must count for something! No, the time-space continuum is fully intact, and the world is turning just as it should. We haven't experienced a time-warp.
So why is everyone saying this? Why am I saying this?
It could be because I worked right the way through the summer, something I haven't done since my girls started school. But I only worked part-time, so I still had time to relax and do summery-type things. It could be because I didn't go away for any length of time, camping or to a cottage or anything. Anywhere where there wasn't a clock. Ah yes, I do believe I have hit the nail on the head. Even now, as I look around my room I see one, two, three, four, FIVE timepieces (six if you count the one on the phone) all telling me that it's 8:36 and counting. Time, dates, schedules, appointments, everything depending on clocks. I close my eyes and readily recall the summers of my youth - going weeks at a time without getting dressed, my wardrobe consisting entirely of a bathing suit or two. Getting up with the dawn (funny how that habit dies hard the instant the school bell rings) and falling into bed as the crickets are coming alive and the sun is just dipping below the horizon. Never knowing what day it was, and never caring (except it was rather important to know when Saturday was, as that's when the cartoons were on, and who cared if they were re-runs).
I'm a big girl now, though, and I can't spend days like that anymore. Or, more truthfully, I can, but it would be seen as being terribly irresponsible. Oh, to spend one day blissfully unaware of a schedule and a routine, that can happen every now and again, and should happen to everyone! They're called mental health days! But to really slow down time, to make one day seem like forever - you have to really draw the process out, I think. You have to spend MANY days in un-calendared heaven to truly forget about time. And I just don't know if that's possible anymore. Now that I'm big. Even a holiday, with its notions of relaxation and an easy-paced lifestyle, contains the hum of a digital clock, or even the ticking of a little travel alarm - one doesn't want to miss yoga on the luau deck, or that train excursion up the mountain, or that connecting flight to Fiji. Time. It presses us through those moments when we most want to forget about it. When we most want to linger forever in the pine-scented evening, when we want to hear the song of a cicada go on and on, when we want the waves to keep crashing up on the beach. Sigh.
The summer is not quite faded, and so, for a few more weeks, people will still likely greet you with “How was your summer?” If you're tempted to say “fast”, go ahead, but be sure to try and remember at least one moment from the last couple of months that you would have liked to hold on to for just a little longer. That exercise of remembering will put that moment deeper into your memory, and, God willing, Time can't erase that.
