I remember the times when I used to have time, to watch the sun set. Ponder the colours as they intertwine over the top of the great dividing range, turning bright blue into off tone shades of grey to black, leaving me with a dulled blue, almost purple in between the night and day, that tells me the day is done and the dark night is about to begin.

That dark night breaks into speckled light, a deluge of stars and galaxies, nebulae of new born brightness in the galaxies above. I would spend hours simply watching the stars and how they moved across the night sky. Often I would bring out the telescope, gazing upon Saturn, Mars and Jupiter. Delving deep into my mind about our existence and where I actually fit in. Wondering what all this means, always with more questions than answers.

I find myself now, in the present, wondering where that time has gone. Wondering why I now seem to miss all the sunsets and by the time I get the chance to look into the night sky, I’m too tired and it’s time for bed.

I wonder is it just because I’m at that time in life where everything is so busy. I’m at the stage where work and progress must come before the simpler things, even family to some degree. For the modern world dictates this. It drives me with no other choice but to keep pushing. For to stop, and take time, only brings more pressure from society to push even harder next time I start again.

I want to see my daughter more often. I want to spend time with her and teach her of the Orion Nebulae and the beauty in the birth of stars. I want to show her the Centauri system and how beautiful they are in the sky each night, how in time, they may all be drifting apart, but still appear so bright to our eyes each night.

I want to take more time with my mother to sit, quietly and just listen to Pavarotti’s “Ave Maria” while I watch her Dementia filled brain float into his lyrics. I want to hear the memories she still has left come trickling back about her childhood with her own mother. Just sit. Take time, and listen.

I want to grasp onto one of the few fond memories I have with my father and dive into that aqua blue water to pull a crayfish out, start our fire on the beach and dine like we’re kings of Babylon and simply forget, about time.

I want to share those childhood memories with my sister before the world started to stretch and skew from much too young of age, turning children into adults before their time.

But for all these things I want, I simply cannot take. For a tall, strong adult man in this modern world of ours, there is no ground for failure, no soft cushion for our fall. There is no spare time, only lost time to push harder and sacrifice everything that makes us, us.

So for now, in this middle part of life, where time is at it’s lowest, we must keep pushing harder. Maybe one day I’ll find time to gaze upon the stars again. Maybe my lack of time will not keep me from fond memories for when I’m old.

If only I had more time.