Sunday Morning Coffee: Time

I spent some time with an old friend today. Hadn’t seen her since January, when she went to spend three months in Florida. This is the first time she’s been there alone. Her husband, our dear friend, went to heaven about a year ago. As those of you who have walked this path will understand, this has been a year of firsts. for her.

Image result for time passes so fast

Today we were together to help celebrate the birthday of one of my granddaughters. We didn’t spend a lot of time catching up, but we did have some time alone to just chat, as old friends do. And we talked about how the years have sped by so incredibly fast, from one perspective, but that when you start recounting memories you know you lived every single day of those years.

She had three sons; I had three sons and a daughter. She suffered a miscarriage not too long after my daughter was born, and that was so hard.

We have shared other life experiences, and it has been a good, solid friendship for 45 years. We learned how to quilt together. We share a love of knitting and crocheting. Even when we haven’t seen each other for a long time, it is easy to fall back into conversation. If you have friends like this, you know exactly what I mean.

She has a large extended family, and they all were there for her when her husband died. We were there as well, and I was so impressed with how she has handled this new phase of her life. Her husband was one of Terry’s very closest friends. We will always miss him.

But when we talked of the incredibly fast passage of time, we also remarked on how we treasure each memory as life passes and the minutes tick away into hours, days, months and years.

When you get to be our age, you realize how short life really is, and you understand the importance of holding each moment in your heart because those minutes do not give you a do-over.

On my other blog, I’ve begun to write the story of the beginning of my life with Terry. I’m calling it “Our Story: 50 Years.” I’ve done four short installments, and I need to hurry up and do another before my readers forget about me and lose interest 🙂 The writing has brought up so many memories that I hadn’t though about in years, and it has helped me realize again how incredibly blessed my life has been.

And something else I’m understanding better all the time is the importance of sharing those memories. If you don’t tell your grandkids your stories, they will not know you as you would want them to know you.

Ecclesiastes 3: 1-4.

To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:

A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted;

A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up;

A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance;

Time. It’s a gift. Don’t waste it.

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