"They say time flies & baby, it's true..."

The title of this post from the song “Happy Happy Christmas” by Ingrid Michaelson. I stumbled upon this song one evening while searching through my YouTube channel for Christmas music to listen to while I was cooking a Hello Fresh dinner. I immediately fell in love with the song because it captures what I’ve always known to be true: that even if this year’s holiday season is all you’ve ever wanted it to be, there will come a December when someone that should be there with you will not be. Time flies. Baby, it’s true.

I can’t think of a better example of time flying than my sister owning a house! ...in Suffolk, Long Island! I still remember us sleeping in my childhood bedroom - watching I Love Lucy - during the summer because we didn’t have central air in the house yet and we needed to share the air conditioning. Meanwhile, little Thomas Rowinski was 10 blocks away in his family home growing up, going to the same school as me, and the both of us never knowing - not in one million lifetimes - that we would end up becoming best friends and lovers. Time flies, and baby, it’s true.

On this Saturday night, December 5th, Tom and I picked up trays of chicken parm, baked ziti, and cesar salad from Vincent’s, and drove on the clear, dark highway to sister’s new house.

Once we got there, she gave him a tour, and we settled in at the kitchen island to eat and drink. We clinked our red wine glasses together and at my request Tom snapped a photo for this album.

We caught up on shows we all were watching, exchanged work stories, chatted about upcoming events that probably shouldn’t be going on because of COVID, and decided to play the board game 13 Dead End Drive to end the night.

Time flies, baby. I know it’s true. I’m here for it.