Windy autumn Monday. I have been working like crazy for the past two weeks.
Every day from 9am until 9pm with no weekends, everywhere, at home and at the office.

I am forgetting how to have fun, or sit and endlessly chat with friends, or find the time for myself and my family . Once I escaped the unbearable crowd on the bus this morning, I came into the office, barely making it to the staff meeting . I saw my colleagues waiting for me and quickly grabbed my reports and joined them.

As soon as the meeting was over, I went back to my laptop to continue working on the training module I have been developing for boarding schools for the last couple of days. I keep my eyes on the clock, waiting for the experts from the Ministry of Education to arrive to analyze another curriculum. On the phone with a completely different training specialist, I am discussing the details of the training session we are going to deliver on the weekends for our partner organizations. Meanwhile, it seems I am not the only one who is overwhelmed.

Our office is getting into something of a mad frenzy. The staff is going crazy with two huge birthday cakes; people are running around, celebrating the project that we just won and the engagement of one of our associates. This has been going on for the past two weeks.

I go back to my laptop and start working on the training module, when the phone rings. I think maybe it is Parvana, the trainer I was waiting to hear from. But it’s not her… It’s my Grandma. Yes, my grandma, the person who raised me, who never refused to give me anything I wanted. As a child in response to the question: "Whose daughter are you?” I used to say: "I am my Grandma’s daughter” and this drove my Dad mad. Grandma used to be everything for me, my Mom, my Dad, my friend, my teacher. I went to the kindergarten where she worked and she was my nurse. My school was near her place and instead of going home after classes I would have lunch with her.

With all this in mind, I answer the phone to hear a voice I haven’t heard in a long time. It’s not clear whether it is my fault or simply the way of life. What I know is that this call made me stop and think and go back ten years and open a new word document to type these thoughts. Grandma’s voice is the same, soft and kind: "Hello beautiful. How are you doing? Tell me what took you so far away from us? Tell me what happened… What happened to my Aida? Where is she now?! You promised to come and visit us, why didn’t you come?”

Silence… I don’t know what to say and lose my ability to speak, to come up with excuses or even valid reasons, like: "I am busy at work.” Who needs this anyway? This is not the time to say anything but a time to think, to give myself some space, to be honest. The questions Grandma asked me were too complicated to answer. I image my Mom standing in front of me and saying: "Aida, your Grandma is terribly sick, find the time to visit her because she is she one who raised you.”

Hearing this makes me realized what a horrible person I have become. Tears start running down my face and all I can say is: "Sorry, Grandma, I will come, I promise, I love you.” I hang up but something is gnawing at me inside: "Why did you change so much? When did you grow up and start taking care of yourself?” A short while ago she was a cute little Granddaughter, who pretended to be asleep when Dad arrived to stay at her Grandma’s overnight. Doesn’t she understand that she is still that small kid running around Grandma’s house? What was it that really happened? Do we change so much that we cannot find the time for anything? Even for those who we love most of all? But I always thought that "not finding the time” is just a regular excuse for people who never do anything.

It is past noon and only twenty minutes ago, I was in 2010, enjoying my cake and working. Where did my Grandma’s call come from? The past, present, or future? What a magical and cruel thing time can be. I wish I could be a kid my entire life, I wish I could pretend to be sleeping in my Grandma’s place again. Why doesn’t time let us do what we want to do? It takes away so much and brings so little. It takes away our childhood, our carelessness, the people we love, our wishes, the seasons, it takes away us. We get lost in time. Some friends get married, get a new job, move to another country and never find the time. Others stay where they are but have no time either. Who does? When, where and why do we lose time? Where should we look for it? If it lost, how do we manage without it? Maybe we don’t really need it?!

Time is not only about losing; it is also about exploring and finding the new you. We grow older, take responsibility for our lives and become individuals. The people we meet who become part of us and the places where we end up are gifts of time to be appreciated. A close foreign friend of mine plans to leave Azerbaijan soon. The moment he told me this, I didn’t know what to say or how to feel. Should I be happy that he wants to begin a new life for himself somewhere else, or feel sad for myself that I’m losing him?

Time is a good teacher. It teaches us how to get used to our loneliness. I am alone. All the rest is moving; it will either come, or go. It’s like the wind. It comes and takes away everything, our friends, our boyfriends/ girlfriends, our parents, our relatives, our jobs, our good times. We have to be strong to bear these losses and live for the moment when time will bring us brand new people, jobs, adventures and much more.