Lovers Point, Pacific Grove, California


Here we are, a new start, spring and easter, and an egg-laying hare. I hear people say time is rushing by, but then I recall sitting through an LA traffic jam or waiting my turn for the vaccine or listening to an old friend try to convince me of his latest conspiracy theory, “No really, it’s true, I’ll send you the link,” and time drags on and on. 

Time equals change. Lately, I’ve been reminded of how difficult change can be by watching a neighbor couple sell their home of decades and downsize, not an easy thing to do. And I have several friends rolling into retirement, the struggle visible in their voice as they try to make sense of it all. 

Years ago, we lived down the block from an older man with a heavy German accent named Albrecht. He loved to tell stories, and it was hard to break away once he got going. One day Albrecht strung together a sketch of his childhood during the war, the devastation, and how life was never the same. Towards the end, he paused for a moment and looked us in the eye. “Whenever there’s change, there’s chaos,” he said, “but in time, life settles into a new normal.”