The Gift of Time
Me and My Mom My mom was 77 when she died. I thought she would live much longer, but my family makes it to 77 or 78, which is about it. I turn 56 this year and I know my days are decreasing. I don't think this or write it because I am grim. I say it because time is an allusion. You think you have time to go on that trip. You think you know where life will lead you, but it changes every minute. Life is finite. It has a beginning and an end. I heard someone say that you see on a cemetery stone a date for a birth and a date for a death. That dash is where the magic happens. That dash is the part of life that matters. It is where you show kindness. It is where you help others. It is where you have the chance to accomplish your dreams. Once you are on the other side of the dash, it is too late. Life is long and short all in one breath. It is heartache and sunshine and rainbows and rain. It is a mixed bag of emot