Our parents: Were they ever that young? Here they are deceased 20 years ago smiling at their baby grandchildren. Our children — now grandparents themselves — are in diapers playing on sliding boards and swings tumbling in the grass laughing so infectiously that I can almost hear them now 50 years later.

Old photo albums bring back memories of course and although they rekindle the joy of happy moments they are a stark reminder that life rolls by k’heref ayin like the blink of an eye a reminder to make our days count. Those thousands of days and nights those years and decades — into which black hole did they disappear as if they never existed?

 (The mind wanders: Does Time that indefinable abstraction “exist” per se? If so how do we sense it? We can touch a chair see a color hear a voice. None of our senses tell us of the presence of Time. Time is a convenient construct enabling us to force this amalgam of past present and future into some manageable form. Who knows? Perhaps Time does not move at all but stands perfectly still while we move through it and pause briefly at certain scheduled stops? But we must leave these musings for another — shall I say? — “time.”)

Time is the world’s strictest taskmaster overseeing the graying of the hair the wrinkling of the skin the bending of the back the aching of the limbs — all the accoutrements that subtly remind us to book safe passage from This World into the Next. And of course there is a Next one otherwise the heartache and the thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to would render meaningless the few years of life on this Earth years which King David describes as mostly amal va’aven “toil and pain ” even if those years should total 80 or more (Tehillim 90:10).

Why do we love photographs why our fascination with them? Obviously because they preserve significant moments that might forever recede from memory. But more significantly photos are a frontline defense against the fleeting nature of Time. A picture promises to bring this evanescent sovereign under control to arrest its inexorable movement to force it — at least for a moment — to pause.

How can one grapple with this powerful overlord? Our tradition suggests one way even more effective than pictures and that is to sanctify Time. Mekadesh to make holy is the key word in our prayers for Shabbos and for Yom Tov. Our actions can create holy seasons holy time. And how? By attaching these seasons these times to transcendental things; by connecting them to timeless sacred spiritual matters. Every Shabbos we sanctify its 24 hours for during that period we are constantly aware of His Presence and His Will because of which we do certain things and refrain from doing other things. Similarly at every Yom Tov — Pesach Shavuos Succos — we are mekadesh hazmanim. Truth to tell every single day even non-festival days carries its own potential for sanctification and thus for connection with the Timeless. And such connections lend meaning and significance to our minutes and hours and keep them from becoming a blurred gust of wind.

By attaching our minds and hearts to the Timeless One we can effectively slow down this imperious taskmaster. How to implement this attachment? Let me count the ways. Serious prayer and Torah study come to mind. Through these one can at least hope to catch the lower hem of that elusive Time and hope against hope to slow it down a bit.

But even a regular reading of any part of Tehillim can work this spiritual magic and how much more so a study of the weekly Torah portion or Mishnah or Talmud. Granted study of Plato or reading Shakespeare’s poetry l’havdil can appeal to the mind and heart but somehow these do not affect our relationship with G-d and to Time. Only our holy texts can do that. To slow down the passage of Time these are much more effective than old picture albums. And they come with much less wistfulness and melancholy.

 We are attending a wedding. In the adjoining room the families are taking pictures. Smiles are bright eyes glisten with joy clothing is perfectly coordinated. The photographer wants another shot. Why not? Smile brightly again open wide your eyes for before you know it Time will work its roguish pranks and we will never ever look the same: the smooth supple skin and the square shoulders and the stylish headdress and the self-assured mien will remain forever frozen and encased behind the covers of the album. It would be a good idea as a kind of insurance to keep the Book of Tehillim handy.