The Days of Our Lives

Years ago, my father underwent heart surgery. During his three-month recovery, he got hooked on “The Days of Our Lives”, a soap opera that opened with an hourglass over which its star, McDonald Carey, intoned, “Like sands through the hourglass, so are the days of our lives.” Sometimes I’d watch it with Dad, who relished telling me all about Salem, a little town plagued by rare diseases and big scandals. My mind occasionally wanders back to those sweet hours together, pausing to listen again to the opening. At the time, I was too young to appreciate the gravity of the words. Now, with Dad in his late seventies and me pushing 50, they’re particularly poignant. Both our hourglasses are bottom-heavy. Every day is one less, not one more, meaning those we have left are truly dear.

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