"Time and tide wait for no man"

I remember the first time I heard that.

It was in a book. I was reading along completely caught up in the incredible story (the book remains a favorite to this day), and I read the phrase.

The phrase was placed in the book perfectly. It was at a time where the story was so intense the reader wanted to step back and remind themselves they were just reading a story, but the moment was so crucial to the character's integrity the reader was stuck reading on and on. (Don't know what I'm talking about? Obviously you've never read a real book)

I saw the phrase. I had never seen it before. I don't know how I escaped that particular cliche, but when I read those words I knew it was the first time I had ever seen them. I felt as if I had discovered something new.

The author repeated the phrase 2 times to describe it running through the character's head. In my mind, I could see this character on their knees in shock, in pain, in desperation, not knowing what to do, not knowing what to say, but knowing something must be done, something must be said, and foolishly the phrase "Time and tide wait for no man, Time and tide wait for no man" ran over and over in their mind. It was incredible.





I thought about that phrase a lot today.

Today is an anniversary. The same anniversary I "celebrated" (see June 27th "Anniversaries") last year.

I went back to read that post before I wrote this one. I don't often read past posts, but I wanted to read it again.

It surprised me. I remembered exactly what I was feeling then, and I was able to compare it to what I was feeling now. It's strangely similar and oddly dissimilar.

The pain is the same as last year, but the difference from last year to this year is more interesting.

I'm losing some memories of the experience, and I know it.

I don't know how much I can lose before the whole memory is gone. Can that happen? I have to remember-it's vital I remember, so I don't make the same mistakes. But how many details do I have to remember for me to be wise? How many stories do I need to remember for me to turn away from it? How many conversations do I need to remember for me to be surreptitious? How many? How many?

At times I feel strangely peaceful about it, even though I don't want to. I don't ever want to be peaceful about what happened.

But I don't know what I can safely let go? What memories are the vital ones-the ones that sum everything up? Which memories are simply repeats, and reruns (which have their own meaning)? Should I let those go? Which people, or conversations, or situations can I forget, and still not lose what I have to remember?

How do I save those memories from being lost? Should I set aside a time and place to think about them? Should I write them down and read them regularly? Should I talk to someone about them consistently? Or should I let them fade away simply because in my life now they don't come up? Do I lose the lessons I've learned if I can't remember the specific circumstances?

How hard do I fight to hold onto memories? How hard do I fight to let them go?

I woke up last night. I was dreaming about it. As soon as I woke up, the dream began to fade. I found myself struggling to remember the details of the dream the conversations, people, feelings, lessons, experiences, and places. The harder I tried, the less I remembered. The dream was slipping away, the feeling was slipping away, the memory was slipping away and no matter how hard I grasped they weren't coming back. They would never be as strong as they once were.

It was then the phrase came back to me.

Time and tide wait for no man. Time and tide wait for no man.