Time

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   Image result for old man and child holding hands
His hands were small and cold. I massaged the wrinkles that had creased around his jagged fingernails. Unlike my own, there were no freckles dotting the back of his hand. His red hair that used to match my own was faded and cut short. He looked at me, and I at him. One resemblance that time hadn't destroyed was our big brown eyes. And then, just moments later, even this was taken away from me as he closed his eyes, never to open them again.
   I felt like crying out. Felt like shouting at the doctor for not trying harder to keep his heart beating. But in my head I heard the rhythmic tune of the first song he ever taught me. It was a common reminder that time is a race humanity never wins.


Time going round the clock.
Tick tock, tick tock...
He always taught me to sing in a deep tenner.
Each day begins on the dot.
Tick tock, tick tock...
He taught me to think about the words.
Time...
And apply the meaning to your voice.
Tock, tick tock...
And sing your heart out.
Time.
Until you realize that all of this--this singing--is him reminding you of how short life is, and how likely it is there will be no tomorrow.
Live like this day's your last.
Tick tock, tick tock...
No better time to fix the past.
Tick tock, tick tock...
Time.
Tock, tick tock...
Time.
And that moment when I ran my hands over his still face one last time, pouring my fingers over his slight smile and whispering the last words...
You know it's precious once you waste it.
Tick tock, tick tock...
Kiss those moment or regret it.
Tick tock, tick tock...

 Time.
Tock, tick tock...

 Time.


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