Unaware too long

Photo at Pixabay

So. It has arrived, July 12, 1989, the day I find hard to believe in. I have now lived for seventy summers, the season beloved to me for warmth, water, clotheslessness, sun, sand, clear skies. Yet I have forgotten many of those years. I was unaware for too long of much of the time—more than twenty-five thousand days—through which I have moved. Now, I am aware of every moment of every day, especially of the summer days. Now that it is growing late.

Doris Grumbach
Coming into the End Zone – a memoir

Doris Grumbach lives today in New York nearly twenty-eight years after her seventieth birthday. Let me take careful note of her seventy-year old observation nonetheless: let me be aware of every moment.

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