An introductory thread was started between fellow writers in the course I am taking. One lady talked about her husband encouraging her to turn the funny tales she told into children’s books. He has since passed away and she will never be able to share the gift of his encouragement with him.
I am mindful of how precious the time we have on this earth is. I remember my dad stating during a game of cards with his brothers many years back, that the way he saw it, he was living on borrowed time. His parents didn’t make it to 55. I also never ran out of cigarette package supply for my crafts, and the aroma of the steel factories 50 feet from their front door to me, is like the smell of turkey baking from the early hours Christmas day.
When I got the call that my grandfather had passed while walking my dog, I paused on the steps of the church I was standing in front of and balled my eyes out.
I didn’t have many regrets though. We had shared so many wonderful adventures together and at the end of the day, I knew that I hadn’t overlooked the gift of having a grandparent that late into my life.
Tonight, we spent time at my parents house. It was a regular weekly occurrence before COVID but a routine that has been laxed except for special occasions since.
We had a tasty dinner with roast beast and all of the fixings, and leftovers, homemade soup and dumplings, and cream turkey on rice, are also packed into our freezer. Oh, and lunch for the girls.
Life is short.
I live each day like it’s the last, but with a goal of living late into the other side of 50.