Stay Strong

The Passage Of Time

Years passed, each one slipping by like pages turning in a well-worn book. Carina often found herself reflecting on how quickly the world around her had changed. When she first arrived in the 1930s, everything had felt foreign and difficult to understand. The clothes, the customs, the attitudes—it had all been so different, so overwhelming. But now, as she stood by the window of their small home, gazing out over the familiar streets of London, it felt as though she had always been here.

She had long since made peace with the life she’d found in this strange new time. She had embraced it with everything she had, even as her mind sometimes wandered to the past. To the life she had left behind.

George had aged too, as time always demanded. The man who had once been a young scholar with bright eyes and boundless hope now bore the marks of years spent in a world that had grown more turbulent with each passing day. But to Carina, he was still the same George—the man who had rescued her from the harsh judgment of the town guard all those years ago. The man who had given her a home, a place to belong.

And, over time, their love had deepened. They had grown together, facing hardships and challenges, but always side by side. Through the years of war, the uncertainty, and the pain, they had clung to each other, finding comfort in the midst of it all. They had built a life, a family, and it had been enough.

But now, as she stood there, looking out over the world she had come to know, Carina couldn’t help but feel the weight of time settling over her. It wasn’t just the passage of years that made her feel heavy—it was the knowledge that she was running out of them.

The 1980s had arrived, and with it, a quiet dread that she couldn’t shake. Every year that passed felt like a countdown, like a clock ticking down to a moment she could no longer avoid.

In the distance, she could hear the sound of a radio broadcasting the news of the day—a war somewhere far off, the markets fluctuating, the inevitable march of history. The world was changing, and Carina was growing older. Her hair had long since lost its youthful shine, replaced by streaks of gray that seemed to appear faster than she could count. Her hands, once smooth and young, now bore the marks of time—small lines, a slight tremor when she reached for something too quickly. She couldn’t ignore it. And neither could George.

“Carina,” he called, his voice soft as he entered the room, his eyes weary but kind.

She turned to him, offering him a small smile. “How was your day?”

George sat down beside her, his hand brushing hers. “The same as always. The world keeps turning, and so do we.”

She nodded, her eyes lingering on his face. Despite everything, despite the war and the years, they had found peace together. But even the peace felt fragile now, as if the very air around them carried a weight that neither of them could ignore.

“We’ve had a good life, haven’t we?” she said, her voice quiet, almost to herself.

George squeezed her hand, his eyes warm but tinged with sadness. “Yes, we have. More than I ever thought possible.”

They had, in many ways, built the life Carina had once dreamed of—albeit in a different world, in a time she had never expected to be part of. But as the years pressed on, Carina couldn’t help but think of the day she first arrived, the moment she stepped through that door, and the old woman’s words echoing in her mind. “Stay strong.” It had been a warning, a plea, a mantra to hold onto through the hardest of times. And in that moment, she understood it more than ever.

Her heart ached as the weight of those years continued to press down on her. Time wasn’t just a passage; it was a force she couldn’t control. And soon, that force would take George away, as it took everything else. The knowledge of that loss was something she tried not to think about, but it loomed over her like a storm cloud.

She met George’s gaze, and for a moment, the world seemed to stand still.

“I don’t know how much longer I can do this, George,” Carina whispered, her voice trembling. “I don’t know how much longer I can keep pretending that I’m okay.”

He turned to her fully, his expression softening with understanding. “You don’t have to pretend. You’ve carried this weight for so long, Carina. But you’re not alone. You’ve never been alone.”

Tears welled up in her eyes, and she turned away, ashamed of the vulnerability she couldn’t hide. “I wish I could go back,” she said softly, almost too softly for him to hear. “I wish I could go back to the time I came from. To the people I loved.”

George placed a hand on her shoulder, his voice steady and comforting. “But you’re here now, Carina. And this is your life. You’ve built a new family, a new home. And we’ve built it together.”

Carina nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. It wasn’t enough to erase the pain, but it was a truth she could hold onto. She had made a new life. A life she never could have imagined. And in it, she had found love, peace, and belonging.

But it wasn’t forever. She knew that now.

As the days passed, Carina’s sense of time only grew more profound. She was approaching the end of her journey. But what had she learned? What had all of this meant?

As she sat by the fire that evening, George beside her, she realized something. She didn’t need to have all the answers. She didn’t need to fix everything. She only needed to hold on to what she had now—what they had together. She needed to stay strong, not for the world, but for herself, for the life she had fought so hard to build.

And with that thought, Carina felt a sense of calm wash over her. Time would continue, and she would move through it, just as she had since the day she first stepped through that door. She would face whatever came next. She would stay strong.