I Thought I Had Time

As my friends know, I'm a communicator, and when I think of stuff, it seems to have to come out my fingers in type. I often feel compelled to share my thoughts, hoping my readers will take my words to heart. This is one of those times.

In 1960 I had been married 5 years, living in Emporia, concentrating on building my life as a married lady. My parents were going, doing, living their lives. We visited maybe every week or so, as I remember. My mother was 63, no health problems that we knew of.

I thought I had time.

In June, 1960, at age 63, my mother suffered a massive heart attack, and 3 days later was gone. I still grieve that I had wasted time that I could have spent with her, things I could have told her, things I would have liked her to tell me.

I thought I had time.

In January, 1973, I kicked over the traces, divorced my husband, and, as I like to say, ran to Texas, where I had friends. My father had remarried, and was busy traveling with Edna, enjoying his retirement years by following a gospel group they liked. Tho in his late 70s, no major health problems. In those days before the internet, during those first 8 months in Texas, I wrote letters home, every month or so, but no phone calls. No hearing my Daddy's voice in my ear.

I thought I had time.

September, 1973, I got the phone call from my Big Sister Gail that Daddy, age 78, had had a massive heart attack, and literally fell over dead working in his garden, doing what he loved.

I thought I had time.

By now you can see where this is going. Most of the time, we don't know what tomorrow will bring. However, sometimes, we DO get clues, such as when our loved ones are seriously ill.

Dear Readers, whether you have gotten clues, or life is sailing along very nicely, do not, I repeat, DO NOT take your loved ones for granted. Take the time to visit, NOW, to communicate, go places with them, share your memories of the years.

My prayer is that you will not forever regret not spending time with your loved ones: parents, siblings, children, friends.

You might not have time.