All You Have Is Time (da da da da da)

“Tired of lying in the sunshine staying home to watch the rain. You are young and life is long and there is time to kill today. And then one day you find ten years have got behind you. No one told you when to run, you missed the starting gun.”

Pink Floyd, “Time”

Pink Floyd nailed it in 1973, don’t you think? When we were young, there seemed to be all the time in the world. We read books, slathered ourselves with baby oil and fried in the sun, ate ice cream not once thinking about those pesky calories.

Then we grew up. Maybe college was followed by careers or maybe we went straight to work, but either way, there was too much work and not enough time. Dinner was consumed at the kitchen counter. Jeff had packages of Lipton noodles in his cupboard and called that gourmet. The back of the cereal box was the most interesting reading outside of work. And the sun was something we viewed as it was rising or setting outside our windows. 

Add a spouse and kids to that mix? I remember when Zach, our first child, was born. Jeff was in the Coast Guard then, working three days on, three days off, three nights on, three days off. I was a wreck. No, seriously. I was. Spit-up on my pajama top at 3 o’clock in the afternoon. You read that right. Pjs. 3pm. It wasn’t like I had time for a shower. I’m not sure I made a single, actual meal those first couple of months. And laundry? If something didn’t stink too badly when I picked it up off the floor, it was a winner.

Then came our second child – Kassidy. And then two moves in 18 months – the curse of the military family.

Then coaching soccer and basketball. Driving to football and cheerleading. Traveling for basketball tournaments, jump rope competitions, and camps for both sports.

I had gone back to school for my Master’s and was working full time. Jeff was stationed in Cleveland. We were surrounded by too much to do, no support in getting it done, and not enough time to do any of it anyway.

Then, one day, it was quiet. There were no more sporting events. We were both still working, but the frantic pace of our early years had slowed. Laundry dropped to one load a week. There were leftovers in the ‘fridge.

At first, that silence was deafening. After the constant motion that had been our daily lives, being still felt so…weird.

But it didn’t take long for us to realize that we had a golden opportunity. Remember that couple we used to be? The couple who took off for a weekend in the keys with a hibachi, a cooler and a change of clothes. The couple who picked up on a whim and headed for the beach. Or lived for 10￠wing night.

We could be that couple again. I know, right? Shocker! The other day, we decided to hit an early lunch after visiting a local market. We stopped by a place called Barrio – which has hands down the best tacos in Cleveland. It was 11:00 in the morning, and they had just opened. 

We sat outside and reached for the design-your-taco menu pad. But, what was this? A brunch menu? It was Saturday. It was brunch. We could do brunch!

You remember brunch, right? And I don’t mean that meal you throw together at 10:30 when you realize that you forgot to feed the kids breakfast because you were doing laundry and vacuuming. 

Real brunch. With mimosas. Because adults can do a little day drinking. It’s one of the perks.

We laughed and joked around. Talked about everything and nothing. Munched on chips and queso. Had tacos bursting with chilis and cotija cheese.

• 

• 

We were that couple. The one from 1990 when we first met. And it was perfect. 

We got talking about the time factor – how time impacts our ability to be our best selves. Our young selves had tons of time to just do whatever. Then we had kids and had no time to do anything at all. And then we circled around again. It was such a cool moment for both of us, to realize that.

We still had work to do, but we could do it whenever we wanted. There was still laundry. And vacuuming. And dogs that needed to be walked. But those things could be done when we got around to it. 

What was so cool was that we had time. Time for all of it. Time for just us. 

Brunch. Who knew?