A year and a half.
Some might call it short, just a blink. But time isn’t measured in numbers. It’s measured in changes, in the way we grow, stretch, fall, and rise again.

In a year and a half, a baby learns to walk, talk, and recognize love in a familiar voice.
A business is born from a napkin sketch and becomes someone’s livelihood.
A student becomes a graduate. A stranger becomes a friend. A friend becomes family.

People fall in love. People heal.
Someone discovers who they really are for the first time.
A plant roots itself in new soil and blooms.
A home is built, torn down, or found again in someone’s arms or within one’s self.

The seasons shift six times.
Skies change color, cities light up, families grow, and entire lives are rewritten.
It’s enough time to unlearn fear, to forgive, to believe again.

A year and a half is long enough to change you.
To leave you with memories that don’t fade when the lights go out.
To carve out a space in your life, your habits, your heart.

It’s long enough to matter.
Even if it ends. Even if it slips away.
Even if it’s unspoken.

Because time isn’t about how long it lasted.
It’s about how deeply it was felt.

Is it long enough for a person to remember someone?