It is 3 p.m. and I am trying to get the girls to nap again. It will not work and they will not sleep and my daily naps are like the dinosaurs, gone gone gone.

A breeze comes through the window as it is finally fall, my best alive time. It blows Rachi's hair and she says, "I windy, mama." It is cold on my cheek and smells like camping and I am suddenly transported to a camping trip that I took when I was 18 or so. So much went on on that trip, weird friend stuff and someone built me a small scale model of Stonehenge on the camp site and I still have the picture of 18 year old me sitting so happy, teary eyed next to the little henge.

It is rare that I am so completely reminded of and transported to another place and while I love this, that our minds can do this, it also makes me sad. I wonder if this is how it must feel to be very very old. To have 90 or 100 years of memories stored up and then a breeze comes and takes you back to another place and another you. But it is still this you, but this time and place are so so long gone. I wonder if the more life memories you have stored up, the more this happens. And perhaps this is why very old people always seem to be living in the past.

Sometimes I hate that time is linear. I want it to be a swirly wobble. But our little brains couldn't handle this, so we build our clocks and our TV schedules and we live our lives.

My friend, Doug, once told me that in our lifetimes we will cure death. I think he said it like that. That we will cure everything and people wouldn't die like they used to. That we will live to be much much older than we do now. I don't think I could bare this. I don't think I would want to be 150, with 150 years of memories all swirling around in my brain, ready to pop up at any time. Ready to remind me of what I once had. I have never feared getting old, but I suppose I fear staying old forever. Like vampires. Being a vampire must be such a drag. It just goes on and on and on. Vampires are like grandpas, sitting around remembering and remembering.