I remember fretting as a 6 year old that so much of my past life had forever been erased from my memory.  It disturbed me to think that the things I was experiencing would soon be forgotten.  I conducted a little experiment, focussing for a minute or so on a picture on the wall, and determining that I would, in effect, freeze that moment in time.  I marveled at the fact that even when I was 50 0r 60 years old, I would be able to travel back in time and clearly remember that moment.   So far so good.  

Whether I was yearning for significance, or just, perhaps, fascinated by the passage of time, I am reminded now as a 62 year old that time passes, and whether or not I remember everything that has happened to me, there is someone who does, and someone who cares.  I look forward to someday meeting with the creator of time.  I want to thank him for walking with me through each moment of each day.