Like a Hand out the Window in the Wind

After Patrick put in his 7 hours researching jobs and sending out resumes yesterday, we decided to go on a drive to explore some more of the area. I suggested Cortez. It's a throwback to simpler times, a place that supposedly hadn't seen much progression in 140 years. I love that.

However, when we finally got there, we zoomed right through the town without so much as even stopping for the lights, as they were green all the way through. Without knowing it, we were suddenly over the water and onto Anna Maria Island. When the road ended at the gulf, we made a right and kept trucking.

With no maps to guide us, no previous visit to help us along, we just drove. Most of the roads on the island are 35 miles per hour, with some dropping to 25, so we had time to just glide along and look at our surroundings. It was a tropical paradise and time had seemed to stop there.

Unlike the northeastern seashore of the United States, most of the houses weren't new, but instead, oozed that traditional Florida Cracker charm; the roads were cramped and the soft edges gave way gently to sugary white sand. People were bicycling and lazily walking down the streets; a blue trolley was ahead of us, dinging it's way through the maze of roads with a load of people inside. It was like the past had come to life in front of us, the island's memory from a long ago time suddenly in motion for only us to see.

We followed the historic vehicle to the end of the island but turned right instead of left, as it had, and we found ourselves at the Anna Maria City Pier. Pulling over, we parked to the right of the structure for a moment on the soft crystals of sand and breathed in the salty, clammy air.

Patrick shot me a look and asked, "Quick, without thinking, what does the smell remind you of?"

Without hesitation, we replied in unison, "Cape Cod." It was a memory of our long-ago past, but one we had imprinted within us because of the time the three of us shared on that wonderful little island together.

The scent was that delicious rich smell of the oceans that only comes when there is low tide and remnants from the sea are left to bleach and decay on the shoreline, baking in the heat of the sunload. That deep ocean smell that you know Poseidon carries on him as he stands out above the seas and raises his trident over all the creatures he rules.

Without speaking, we just sat there and basked in the sun and the smell and the warm salt air, letting our senses mark this moment in our memory and our  minds. Then, Patrick put the car into gear and we were off again, driving deeper into the island to explore some more.

Before too long, we crossed back over to the mainland and headed back to 275. As we drove along the highway, windows open, late afternoon sun casting a gorgeous golden haze around us, I stuck my hand out the window like I used to do as a kid, and I played with the wind.

As we climbed the ascension on the Sunshine Skyway Bridge, where the wind became bolder but the view was ever-reaching, I realized how closely my journey through life resembled the resistance my hand met out the window.

I've always wanted to slow down time, but we barrel through life at an impressive speed. Just like us crossing that bridge at 70 miles per hour, life flies by us before we even realize it's gone.

I thought back to the weeks before the move when I would just sit with Jaryd in the family room, soaking up his presence and just being with him before he began his own journey. I tried, like I had done many times over the course of raising him, to slow down the clock, make it tick just a little bit slower so that I could put more hours in a day, more minutes into the moments we spent together. It never worked, but oh how I tried!

The memory hit me hard and I hid my hand-cum-airplane for a minute behind the mirror, watching as St. Petersburg approached in the forefront and Tampa grew bigger in the distance. I thought for a moment about how many other people had come here before us, refusing to let time pass them by any longer, striving for something better than what they had known in the past.

And I know all too well how people and lives are taken from us every day. My mother was gone in an instant 25-years-ago this week. One moment, her bright smiling face was gracing us with her jokes and laughter and the next, she was silenced forever.

I wondered for a moment if she'd be proud of what we had done, knowing she often talked about moving to Florida but had too much holding her back. I wonder if my grandparents, who have also both passed, were looking down at us and cheering us on. They, too, loved the warm weather and with my grandfather's sister just south in Englewood, came down to visit this area often.

Those were fond memories, driving with them across the state of Florida, exploring the white sands and blue waters, and then growing excited as we went inland to explore the parks and the thrills they offered.

But this trip for me is different. We're alone now. Auntie passed, it's gotta be at least 12 years ago now, and my cousin Dale has moved on with his life, going farther south into Fort Myers. So we explore the Tampa area alone, with only their eyes all looking down on us from above.

I raised my hand one more time in the wind, over the mirror, so the full-blast of air hit it as we charged forward towards our new home, and I spent one more second missing all the people who have meant so much to me but aren't sharing this adventure with us. Then, I pulled it back inside and looked straight ahead, ready to slow down the days and enjoy the ones I have left.

We never know when our time's going to be up so we have to take each minute as it comes. I've spent 38 years rushing towards the next "sweet" spot, whether it be a weekend event or just a day off from the daily grind. It's time now for me to live, to enjoy what God has provided and to have faith that I'm where I'm supposed to be when I'm supposed to be here. I don't know how long it will last, but I do know I'm not taking one more second for granted. I'm going to spend my remaining time on this earth living, because if there's anything that I do truly know, it's that days go by.



Days Go By lyrics
Songwriters: Powell, Richard Monty; Urban, Keith;

I'm changing lanes, I'm talking on the phone
I'm drivin' way to fast and the interstates jammed with
Gunners like me, afraid of coming in last
But somewhere in the race we run
We're coming undone

Days go by
I can feel 'em flying
Like a hand out the window in the wind, the cars go by
It's all we've been given
So you better start livin' right now
'Cause days go by

Out on the roof just the other night
I watched the world flash by
Headlights, taillights running through a river of neon signs
But somewhere in the rush I felt
We're losing ourselves

And days go by
I can feel 'em flying
Like a hand out the window in the wind, the cars go by
It's all we've been given
So you better start livin' right now
'Cause days go by
Yeah, these days go by

We think about tomorrow then it slips away
Oh, yes it does
We talk about forever but we've only got today

And the days go by
I can feel 'em flying
Like a hand out the window
When the cars go by

It's all we've been given
So you better start livin'
You better start livin'
Better start livin' right now

'Cause days go by
I can feel like 'em flying
Like a hand out the window in the wind the cars go by
It's all we've been given
So you better start livin' right now
'Cause days go by
Yeah, these days go by

So take 'em by the hand
They're yours and mine
Take 'em by the hand
And live your life
Take 'em by the hand
Don't let 'em all fly by

Come on, come on now
Don't you know the days go by?