December 3, 2005
Once, while attending a class on some subject I can no longer recall, most likely history, a teacher asked we eighth-graders to explain a phrase written on the blackboard.
The phrase was, “Time flies.”
Soon, everyone in the room tried to out do each other with our respective philosophical wisdom and acumen.
One never heard such astute perception that flowed from our mouths.
To which, the teacher quietly replied, “You can’t. They fly too fast!”
“Say that again,” we pleaded.
“Time flies. You can’t. They fly too fast!”
I have never forgotten the feeling of being completely bum foozled by that remark.
None of us were ready for the thump on the head. The entire class missed the point.
Apparently, we were not so clever after all.
Nevertheless, I learned an important lesson that day about life-- we are never ready for the punch line.
Sometimes the punch line is funny or wise, but as often as not; it is poignant and heart-rending and creeps up on you without warning.
The same teacher mentioned above was my eighth-grade teacher.
Nearly 50 kids were packed that year, sometime in the 1960’s, into her small classroom in a small school in a small, Missouri town. No one had heard of a junior high back then. We did not need one.
Learning was exciting as we were enthralled with the teacher’s stories of her real-life experiences during World War II. We learned history first hand from her account of serving as a Red Cross captain attached to an Army unit on the Yugoslavian/Italian border. She told us of attacks by guerrilla fighters, stories about prisoners of war, and of flying over Mount Vesuvius in an open-door cargo plane. She recalled what it was like to see a volcano from the top down.
Most of us were amazed at the teacher’s in-depth knowledge on many subjects. She taught history, English, math, science, and physical education—every single day!
She had numerous advanced degrees, but never spoke of them. Her vast knowledge spoke to us instead.
When our class moved on to high school, this teacher moved with us. There we had her at least two more years for World History, American History, and government classes.
This Thanksgiving Day, she came to our house for dinner. On January 1, she will celebrate her 88th birthday. Yet, today, she does not know one day from another. She looks at her great-grandchildren she has just spent hours with and asks to be introduced. She cannot remember to eat, and she repeats herself every few seconds.
Sometimes, we see a glimmer of the person we once knew. Mostly, she does not know where she is, whether it is Sunday or Thursday, or if it rains.
Experts say Alzheimer’s moves forward in stages. Currently, she is entering the final third of the disease’s deadly progression.
She doesn’t remember her stunning statement to us nearly 45 years ago, “Time flies,” nor can she deliver its punch line, “You can’t. They fly too fast!”
I wasn’t ready for the punch line then, and I suspect I am not ready for it now.
You see, that teacher, who taught me three years in a formal classroom setting and who has taught me all my life, is my mother.
Time does, indeed, fly too fast.
