Do You Feel It Too?

I'm thinking about time. Tonight I went to dinner with my parents, grandmother, sister, and friend, and we talked about the past. The days, months, years- they've shaped us. We've unfolded and we are still unfolding. At five years old, I never brushed my hair and danced around the living room, intruding upon An and her friends. And my mom, at three years old, was jumping over logs and drain pipes, eager for her independence. There was something within each one of us that time couldn't ever change. We are who we are. But don't underestimate the potential for surprise. There's nothing better than a glimpse in my grandmother's face of the girl who waited with leather gloves for the clock to chime, for the door to open.

Am I making sense?