Lion or Lamb?

It’s March… and my sister Martha is coming to visit.

Why do those two things go together?  Because when Martha was little, every year, on the first day of March, she took my stuffed lion with the zipper body where I kept my pajamas, and one of the lambs from my stuffed lamb collection, to school to share.  They were the illustrations for her explanation about the personality of March:  if it came in like a lion, it would go out like a lamb.  But if it came in like a lamb, watch out!  It would go out like a lion.

Martha is going to drive to our dad’s house and pick him up, then the two are coming up together on the train.  I talked to Dad today and he asked if I planned on him catching fish for dinner, and should he bring his dog along, and he told me his suitcase is all packed even though he and Martha aren’t coming for five days.  I said, “No, yes, and good for you.”

When I was little my grandmother used to say, “The older you get, the faster time flies by.”  I would giggle and shake my head.  “No, Grandma,” I would argue.  “Time is time.  It goes the same speed for everyone.”

But Grandma was right.  A whole year would pass between Martha’s requests to borrow my stuffed animals for sharing, and it seemed like forever.  But now… well, we have been talking about bringing my 91-year-old dad up here to visit for so long, but time just gets away.

But now it’s March and we are going to do it.  Will he come in like a lion or a lamb?  I don’t know, but I can’t wait to see!

“…Some things… arrive in their own mysterious hour, on their own terms and not yours, to be seized or relinquished forever.”

Gail Godwin



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2 responses to “Lion or Lamb?

  1. Someone—I forget who—explained to me why we experience time differently as we age. When we were five, one year was twenty percent of our lives. At ten it was still ten percent. And now? Well, let’s just say, the percent is shrinking so the perception is that time has speeded up. 😉

    Have a wonderful time with your dad. What a treat to enjoy this visit with him.


  2. Thanks, Becky. That makes sense. When I get to heaven, I’ll owe my Grandma an apology!

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