The Time Of Dusk, II

Time completely shows herself in brief minutes at the end of each day. It’s called “dusk.” It is the beginning of a new day or is it the remembering of a day ending? Or best still, in my mind, is it the in-between that connects two completely different times: yesterday and tomorrow. We all know about yesterday (but still today), because we were in there all day but tomorrow holds magic or mystery of a new day; or will tomorrow be only yesterday’s repetition.

Staring tonight at a visual of all three times combined, I can remember how many planned and spontaneous conversations happened today which is soon to be yesterday. Driving home I’m thinking to myself, “Was he the one with the college-age son or was he the one visiting his Alzheimer’s mom? No, the college-son dad was in the morning and the Alzheimer’s son-mom was in the afternoon. But now I need to remember their names.

The losing sun starts to combine my today (but soon-to-be yesterday) and my tomorrow. This union of time is slowly happening but a glance away from it only seems to make it happen more quickly.

There. The three now became two. Today (or soon-to-be yesterday) will inevitably become the title song that “Annie” belts out for us.

Alzheimer’s folks experience what’s called “Sundown Syndrome,” meaning their anxiety tends to peak during this dusk time. (“Syndrome,” what a great word to apply to a human being!) The rest of us call it “Happy Hour.” Is that felt anxiety the same for both of us? Are we that much different from those who can’t remember what day it is? And how many of us extend that “happy” time beyond the one hour with friends after work?

The dark, awaiting tomorrow that I see tonight holds promise, surprise or the “same-old-same-old.” We had a chance today (soon-to-be yesterday) to accomplish something or at least show up for work.

Giving birth provides a beginning, nearing death looks ahead with a nod to yesterday. But tonight, as I can see every night, I can witness all three times combined in a dusky, reflective moment. And a moment it is with these three crazy times combining only to confuse me with what time it really is. Am I only thinking about that unknown tomorrow or am I thinking about that lost today (but soon-to-be yesterday)?

I don’t have an answer or wise advice but I love when these three times meld into one, in perfect harmony, if only for a time.