Time is a strange thing when filtered through the lens of memory.
“I had thought that Bill’s cousin, Dr. Bobby Echols, died on Thanksgiving weekend and that this Thanksgiving (2019) would be 2 years.
Bobby’s sister, Debra Echols Turner, texted me this past week with a reminder that it was Labor Day Weekend- of last year, 2018! Barely a year. I was stunned. We’ve been through so much and so much was going on when we got news of Bobby’s sudden death.
Since October 10th, 2018, (when H. Michael hit) until today time is more or less a blur.” (from November 2019. CBB)
I came across the note above scribbled in a notebook today as I was cleaning out some boxes and bags. Today is 12/25/2025. Is is the writing of things that sears them into the mind and makes the emotions of those times so strong?