The drive down to Hilton Head from Charlotte is about three and a half hours, most of it through South Carolina. We listen to 70's music on the radio, and I sing along while Katie sleeps. I stare out the window at the pines that line the highway as they stream by, watching their high branches twisting toward the sun.
The thought strikes me, hard, that I will never see these trees in this particular moment, this blue sky, this sunshine, and sadness washes over me, joyful sadness, because I know that time is passing, and because I know that I know.
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