|Image Source: Flickr/Flowercarole|
I remember being 7 years old and waiting all morning for my birthday party to start. My mother gave me chores to do to get the house ready, and it seemed like it took years for the clock to strike noon. Now, years fly by in a flash, hardly noticed.
9 years ago, almost to the day, I left for college, with truckloads of dreams and a wide eyed ambitions. Life was so big, so long, so hopeful. It felt like the time in life when things really begin, things happen, life really starts.
What's even crazier is that it's been five years since I graduated. In my mind, I still feel wide-eyed and full of wonder, but what I am frightened of, is how quickly that is fading.
I swore that I would never be a hardened old lady, too set in her ways to see all of the marvelous wonders in life. I wanted the wisdom of an adult and the faith of a child. Fear creeps in and we try so hard to hold onto something that isn't even ours.
With last week's death of Robin Williams, it has caused all of us, who grew up being entertained by him, to think about the heavy topic of mortality.
There is a scene in one of Robin's films, The Dead Poet's society, where he has his students crowd around a trophy case and picture of students who had gone before. He tells them to look really hard at the image of the men men in their prime, then he tells them that all of those men are now fertilizing daffodils.
It doesn't matter your worldly accomplishments, because in 30,50,80, years, you will be fertilizing daffodils. What life ought you to live?