It wasn’t enough, they think when they look back on it all. They have lived longer than any other humans could have hoped for but when Susan looks back on her days in the sun, in Narnia she just wants back, when everything was warm and simple. She would easily give up her life in England, even her later visit to Narnia to help Caspian just for a few more days under the Narnian sun – back when it had still been her Narnia.
It is blurry for Lucy now, she knows that she had made the most of every day in Narnia, and she can effortlessly recite the important events of every year they were there. But days slide into weeks, slide into months and her happiest days are just the feeling of salt on her cheeks, water in her palms and the memories of family. Lucy wouldn’t ask for a day, because days slip by too quickly for her to grasp.
Somedays it feels like another lifetime when they first entered Narnia, others Edmund is reminded that time matters not at all when it comes to memories. He still remembers every day they spent there (every day) and when he thinks of his life as a sum of all the little moments it feels so full. He doesn’t always think of life as moments – it is harder in England where days blur together, where nothing much is worth remembering anyway. It is when he is thinking like the English that time threatens to overwhelm him by its condensation.
Most everyone he knows is dead. The people in England don’t count, not really – he hasn’t known them in years. Well – years for him, days for them. That was the thing about time in Narnia, they measured it in years and England measured it in days. Peter is grateful (as he will always be) that he got the chance to measure time in years – just once. It won’t happen again – he knew that the moment he stepped into Narnia for the second time. He wouldn’t want to. He treasures the years he had, and struggles through the days he has been given. Time moves forward, with or without you and Peter is not going to let himself get left behind.
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It is blurry for Lucy now, she knows that she had made the most of every day in Narnia, and she can effortlessly recite the important events of every year they were there. But days slide into weeks, slide into months and her happiest days are just the feeling of salt on her cheeks, water in her palms and the memories of family. Lucy wouldn’t ask for a day, because days slip by too quickly for her to grasp.
Somedays it feels like another lifetime when they first entered Narnia, others Edmund is reminded that time matters not at all when it comes to memories. He still remembers every day they spent there (every day) and when he thinks of his life as a sum of all the little moments it feels so full. He doesn’t always think of life as moments – it is harder in England where days blur together, where nothing much is worth remembering anyway. It is when he is thinking like the English that time threatens to overwhelm him by its condensation.
Most everyone he knows is dead. The people in England don’t count, not really – he hasn’t known them in years. Well – years for him, days for them. That was the thing about time in Narnia, they measured it in years and England measured it in days. Peter is grateful (as he will always be) that he got the chance to measure time in years – just once. It won’t happen again – he knew that the moment he stepped into Narnia for the second time. He wouldn’t want to. He treasures the years he had, and struggles through the days he has been given. Time moves forward, with or without you and Peter is not going to let himself get left behind.