When my massage therapist asked why I had to miss my last appointment with her, it took me a long time to remember what I was doing two weeks ago.

Heck, sometimes by the end of a day crammed with activities I forget what I did in the morning, much less 14 days ago. But I knew it had to be something important or I never would have canceled the appointment I needed.Finally, I remembered I was at an all-day workshop.All too often days, weeks and months seem to melt into each other and I forget the little details.Several of my friends say they have the same problem, but only when days are crammed with multiple activities.But our bigger problem is slowing the sands of time - or at least slowing down each day so we can better remember it and savor it - that only a problem when we get older, or, do all ages find it hard to slow the sands of time?For years, I've been keeping a journal of some sort where I write down how I spent the day. That's because my days seem to evaporate. When I look back in my journal, at least I can recall details of my life.People think it's natural for me to keep a journal because I'm a writer. Actually, that's one reason why I find it's hard to sit down and journal. When I'm busy during the day writing for newspapers, I don't relish doing more writing at night.I have to admit there are times when I pick up my journal and notice I haven't written anything for a few weeks. For me, that means time really goes by in a blur.At least with a journal I call recall important things in my past. It really does help control the feeling that my time evaporates.I thought I was the only one who believed that until I read an essay in AARP Journal that said the same thing. The author said he journals because when he gets his days down on paper, it stops him from feeling like all his time evaporates. At least he can look back and recall what he did with it.There are some years when my so-called journal is only a little Hallmark Date book where I put down a few words about the day. But even reading a few words helps plant the memory firmly in my mind.One entry eight years ago in my date book read: First time David came to my house. Reading that, I recalled the chaotic state of my house when I was getting ready for his visit. My friend Mark was in the middle of putting down hardwood floors for me. That meant he had to move all the furniture to other rooms, stacking things on the sofa to the point where there was no clear space to sit.I told Mark he simply had to finish the job before David came. "He can't see the house like this," I said. Being the terrific person that he is, Mark did exactly that. He finished the job and put everything back in place - finishing only a few hours before David arrived.I had no idea when David came to my house for the first time that two years later we would be married. But I'm glad a kept a little journal of those significant years. All the emotions and all the details of the things we did together during those pivotal times would be lost in memory without my little journal to jog my memory.Sometimes it's so much fun to look back at the past. I feel the same way about the past that I feel about New York City: It's a great place to visit, but I wouldn't want to live there.Now, my journal is a beautiful book I use to record special times and special days. I usually write at least a few paragraphs when I do sit down to journal.That truly does capture time. Just by looking at what I wrote in my journal, I can recapture events and emotions.Photographs are another great way to do exactly that. When I look at photos from the past, it brings back precious times that are no longer mine.My daughter Maria posted an old photo on Facebook that brought back my daughters' childhood in a vivid way. My mother-in-law took the photo of my two girls standing on chairs to "do dishes" at her house. Both had ringlets of curls and both wore matching outfits my mother-in-law made.I couldn't stop smiling at the photo from past. Smiles turned to laughter when Andrea said the photo proved what she's been claiming: She and her sister washed dishes even before they were old enough to reach the sink. Forget the fact that we always had a dishwasher. That's her story and she's sticking to it.Every once in a while I get ambitious enough to tackle cleaning out the cabinets in my den. It's a job I never finish because, inevitably, I come across photos from the past and I am lost down memory lane. I love the way photos bring back the past.Whether it's a journal or photographs, that's one way we can track the sands of time.Contact Pattie Mihalik at

newsgirl@comcast.net.