Due to the lateness of the scheduled final exam, and exacerbated by the number of plagiarism cases I've had to sort (and one of them was particularly thorny -- in fact, emotionally wrenching), this fall semester has lingered far longer than I would have liked. I've posted tongue in cheek Facebook updates like
Die semester die!and (last night)
The semester that would not die is now on life support. I'm pulling the plug tomorrow and sitting shiva in New Hampshire and then Florida.Truthfully, I've been ready to end the semester ever since I gave my last Tempest lecture at the beginning of December. Our revels now have ended ... except that the reveling went on for three more weeks. Winter break will not be long enough.
|Robert Cohen, Moody Beach, Maine, August 2010|
When I was Alex's age, my dad and I were taking a drive to the hardware store: an ordinary Saturday, an insignificant errand, but one of the few times he'd asked me to accompany him. He admitted to me how distressing he found it to have lived his life so quickly, to have to wonder where the years have gone because of their rapidity. "Time stretches forever when you're young," he stated, "but then suddenly you're an adult. Its speed leaves you dizzy." Doing the math, he must have been about my age now when we were in the car together on that Saturday. I'm guessing that he doesn't feel any better about time's pace many decades on.
We depart this evening on a short trip that brings us to my siblings in New Hampshire, Maine and Massachusetts. On Saturday we then fly from Manchester to Jacksonville, and enjoy three nights on Amelia Island, our winter family vacation. I am going to resist the temptation on some Atlantic beach, Maine or Florida, to confide to Alex that time will betray him as he grows older. That's a family inheritance I don't want to pass along.