The other day I read Seth Godin’s blog titled: How long is now?

At the time, I didn’t understand or appreciate his point. He wrote: “Do we need a sweep second-hand on our wrist watch or merely a page-a-day calendar to mark the passage of time?”

I pondered his post for a few minutes and moved on to other things, not giving it another thought.

Until this morning, when it hit me. Next week my oldest child is turning 21. It happened in the time it takes to blink. One moment he was a newborn. The next he is an adult.

I remember vividly, the drive to the hospital the morning he was born. I remember vividly, bringing him home from the hospital – the love, the fear, the exhaustion, the awe – I could not take my eyes off of him. I remember vividly, the strained and near-panic call to the pediatrician the first time he ran a fever. I remember vividly, taking him to daycare for the first time, and the first day of kindergarten, and the Christmas pageant, and the first day of pee-wee football, and the first Middle School dance, and the first time he drove to school by himself as a newly licensed driver, and his first date, and his first time starting on the varsity football team, and dropping him off at college for the first time.

And when I think back on all those firsts (and seconds and thirds), it does seem that time passed slowly – or at least at normal speed – because there have been so many firsts (and seconds and thirds) to remember.

I am still not sure how long is now? But as a parent, I can honestly say that time is both far too long and far too short.