There are days in our lives when nothing happens, days which go by leaving nothing to remember and no trace of their passing, almost as though we hadn’t lived them at all.
Come to think of it, most days are like that.
But when it dawns on us that the number of days we have left is limited, we wonder how we could possibly have let so many slip by unnoticed. But this is how we’re made. Only afterwards do we appreciate what came before.
Only when something is in the past do we understand what it would be like to have it in the present.
But by then it’s too late.