Retro Thursday

Me and My Mommy

Funny how time flies.  One minute you're a little tyke being held by your mom, the next, you are looking at an ancient photo of you and your mom - and realize it's now been more than 35 years since she left this life.  It doesn't seem possible that she's been gone that long.  I miss her.

Hey, here's my thought for today: You know you are old when all your baby pictures are black and white.

And, as Indiana Jones so aptly put it, "It's not the years, it's the mileage"!  There have been a LOT of miles between here and there.  Trust me.

Which brings to mind the words of an old hymn:

Time flies on wings of lightning;

We cannot call it back.

It comes, then passes forward

Along its onward track.

And if we are not mindful,

The chance will fade away,

For life is quick in passing.

'Tis as a single day.

As wintertime doth follow

The pleasant summer days,

So may our joys all vanish

And pass far from our gaze.

Then should we not endeavor

Each day some point to gain,

That we may here be useful

And ev'ry wrong disdain?

Improve each shining moment.

In this you are secure,

For promptness bringeth safety

And blessings rich and pure.

Let prudence guide your actions;

Be honest in your heart;

And God will love and bless you

And help to you impart.

Robert B. Baird, 1855-1916