I started reading "The God of the Woods: A Novel" by Liz Moore today. Several reviews recommended it as a great summer read. The story is set in August 1975, the same month and year my spouse Jan and I married. Liz Moore weaves a multi-threaded story, inviting readers into a rich and gripping dynasty of secrets and second chances.

The Present is the Only Time I Am Alive!
Living on the Churning Surface of the Infinite Ocean!
Time, a peculiar paradox, often leaves us in a struggle. There are days when we have abundant free time, yet we find it challenging to fill it with meaningful activities. Conversely, some days slip through our fingers too quickly, leaving us with an ever-growing list of unattended tasks. This struggle with time is something many of us can relate to, a shared experience that binds us in our human journey. I often wonder if my experience of time was similar to my younger working years or if hindsight has cast a more favorable glow upon those memories. After becoming a widow, I spent significant time trying to understand the human construct called time. I have learned that the only time that truly exists is the present.