Submitted by Bud Rigoulot.
This morning as I drove home from dropping my daughter off at work, I was thinking to myself I wish I knew a way I could show or tell her how precious the time we have left really is.
Our lives are spent wrapped up in two-word sentences as she looks at her phone, typing with such velocity and sharpness that I was sure the words I wanted to express would be wasted somewhere in translation and carry no meaning beyond the occasional “yes” or “I know Dad.”
Then I am left with a kiss on the cheek and a soft “I love you” as she disappears from my sight. If she only knew how scared I was that the day will surely come that there will be no more “goodbyes,” kisses on the cheek, or drives together. They will be stolen like a thief in the night by the rapidness of the passing days, weeks and years.
We often take tomorrow for granted as if it’s ours to have forever if only we yearn for it. How do I show her the regrets from my past that now weigh so heavily on my heart–the ones that drag me back to the time when I was still surrounded by loved ones who worried for me. Now that they are gone, I can only wish I had said the things I felt but never said.
How was I to know the days of saying “I love you” and “I miss you” would soon disappear, leaving me with nothing but memories stored in my soul?
I know of no way to stop time, so we may embrace the moment before it becomes a memory. Life teaches us as we grow old to want the most out of the moments we have left. To drive in the slow lane of life looking in the rear-view mirror so we never forget where we come from.
When I close my eyes tonight, I know today will soon become yesterday. Once again, I will start a new day if it is meant to be. How I start the day is not left for others to decide–no, it is mine and mine alone.
I know in my heart and soul I need my memories from my yesterdays to make the most of tomorrow’s choices. So, I will balance my remaining years, loving and cherishing the ones who passed before me until my time comes.
In the meantime, I will try to slow down the time I have left–not for me, oh no. This time is needed for those who will one day look back in their memory bank and find me there waiting for them to whisper “I miss you, Dad.” As I look down upon them with tears of joy, I will wait for the day we meet again in God’s holy presence where we will never be separated again.