Where Has the Time Gone?

Across the Fence #407

Two recent deaths and an upcoming reunion have made me reflect on the passing of time. Where has it gone?

The first death was that of Phyllis Diller on August 20th. It surprised me when I heard she was 95. In my mind I still pictured her as the wise-cracking comedian, trading one-liners with Bob Hope during his USO Christmas show when they stopped at Pleiku, Vietnam in 1966. Then I realized it was 46 years ago, but sometimes it seems like yesterday. 46 years! No wonder she was 95 years old when she died.

The second death was astronaut Neil Armstrong on August 25th. Again it surprised me to hear that he was 82 years old. I hadn’t seen any recent photos of him or heard much about him for a long time. In my mind he was still that image of an Apollo 11 astronaut climbing down the ladder and becoming the first man to set foot on the moon, and announcing to the world, “That was one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind.”

I remember being glued to the small black and white TV screen in our apartment in Madison. It was July 20, 1969. The Vietnam War was dominating the news and this gave the world something positive to think about. I remember thinking that it was nice to know the human race was capable of doing more than just trying to kill each other. That moon landing doesn’t seem that long ago either, but it’s been 43 years. No wonder Neil Armstong was 82 years old when he died.

The third event that makes me wonder where the time has gone is my upcoming high school reunion in a few days. It will mark 50 years since the class of 1962 graduated from Westby High School. It can’t be? Where did the time go? I remember when my parents had their 50^th class reunions. I remember thinking, ‘They won’t be having much of a class reunion. They can’t have that many classmates who are still alive!’

Well, hello to the reality of life. Here we are, the class of 1962, ready to celebrate our 50^th reunion. Where did the time go? I don’t feel old enough to be staring down the barrel of my 50^th reunion, at least not mentally. Physically, it’s a different story. Arthritic joints make it hard to move the old body like it used to. I’m hoping I’m not the only balding, overweight, arthritic, old geezer at our reunion. I haven’t seen some of my classmates since we graduated. In my mind I still see them as 18-years old. In reality, I’ll walk into the room, looking for all the old familiar faces, and to my surprise, I’ll see nothing but old people.  Where are my classmates? I’ll tell Linda, “We must be in the wrong Legion building. I’ve never seen these people before.” They’ll be looking at me too and trying to figure out who the old duffer is. They’ll be thinking ‘Maybe he’s an old vet who wandered into the Legion, not realizing there’s a reunion going on.’

It reminds me of a true story that happened to one of my classmates. A friend of his from work died and he went to the visitation in La Crosse. When he arrived there was a long line waiting to go into the funeral home. He didn’t see anyone he knew, but this was a man he had worked with, so he didn’t know any of his family. After standing in line for over half an hour he finally got up to the casket to pay his respects and didn’t recognize the person in the casket. That’s when he realized he was at the wrong funeral home. He did the only thing a person could do under the circumstances. He offered his condolences to the family and then quickly left the building. Class reunions are a little like that. There will be a lot of strangers in the place.

Out of our graduating class of 79 people we’ve lost 10 classmates. Their deaths didn’t make the national news, like Phyllis Diller and Neil Armstrong, but they were all important to those of us who knew them. We never know when the roll will be called that has our name on it.

Last year, we lost our classmate, Ardy Sloane. It’s always shocking to lose someone your age. It’s even more shocking when it comes suddenly and unexpectedly. Our upcoming reunion made me think of her this week. She was looking forward to this 50^th reunion. We said the two of us would probably be the only ones who weren’t retired. Now I might be the only person still working full-time.

  

Ardy was an English and Journalism teacher in Central City, Iowa. She stayed in touch by sending e-mail comments about things I’d written in my columns. I enjoyed receiving them and miss her many observations about life. After reading a story about taking time, she wrote: “You are so right...taking time for what’s important is TRULY important. This old world seems to be spinning too fast... where has all the time gone since we graduated?”

I don’t know. I guess we left it between 1962 and 2012. As we continue our journey, don’t forget to take some time for what’s TRULY important.

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