Murder by Death.Posted: May 15, 2008
Mostly, when walking down the street, I tend unthinkingly to say, “There’s a young woman…there’s a child…there’s an old lady…there’s a teen…there’s a fortysomething guy,” etc. But lately—and I don’t know why this is—I’m sometimes seeing differently. Now I’m realizing that no one is fixed in time, that every person I see on the street is aging before my eyes. It happens slowly, so that we can’t see it, but that doesn’t mean it’s not so. The four-year old toddler is 30 seconds closer to death than he was when I first saw him. That twenty-three year old girl is 10 seconds closer to being an old lady than when she started crossing the street. Every part of that traffic cop’s body is rotting right now. Death doesn’t happen only at the end; aging is continuous, and the fact that we’d need time-lapse photography for our eyes to see the aging process that happens in every second is no reason to deny it. The three-year old tyke, the seventh grader, the recently retired business dude, the ninety-year old crone—we are all in this together.
I am older than when I started writing this blog post. You are older than when you started reading it.
Let’s make the most of whatever time we’ve got left.