This is slightly out of step with the new challenge that has been thrown out by Silverthreading and Ronovan Writes, which is #WQWWC Writers Quote Wednesday Writing Challenge – “Wisdom”, but only slightly. I prepared this in advance, so please accept my apology. However, it does fit the theme, as I am talking about wisdom after the event. It is a somewhat sad reflection.
I have just finished reading a wonderful book, A Man Called Ove by Swedish author, Frederik Backman. It is littered with quotes that I’d love to share with followers of Silver Threading’s Writer’s Quote Wednesday and Ronovan Writes‘ BeWoW (Be Writing on Wednesday). You’ll be relieved to hear that I am going to limit myself to just one, which struck a deep, resonant chord with me. I have a feeling that the same, harmonious music will soon be humming through your soul too.
But we are always optimists when it comes to time, we think there will be time to do things with other people. And time to say things to them.
Last week, a school chum of mine died. We haven’t seen each other since we were about twenty years old. That is forty years ago. Yet Tony and I had stayed in touch through all those years. Social media has made it easier to keep abreast of each other’s activities more recently. We spoke a couple of times on the phone, and we even arranged to meet up when he was back in England, but that fell through.
Now I am left with regrets. We had so much to catch up on; so much to say to each other; so many memories to share. We didn’t make the time to do that, and now it is too late.
My Mum died seventeen years ago, in February 1999. I often wish that I had asked her this or that, seeking answers which I will never know. It is too late.
I often see something, or hear something, usually a piece of classical or traditional jazz music, and think “I must tell Mum about that!” only to realise that it is now too late.
My father is ailing. He is suffering very badly from the effects of Parkinson’s Disease and various other maladies. He is eighty-four and he is not immortal. He will die sometime, probably before me.
I aim to not be so optimistic about time. I must make the most of it. I must have those vital conversations with my Dad now, before it is too late. I know that I will miss something, but I will give him my time and I will get the most out of him while we are still able to converse.
Are we humming in harmony. Will you take this quote on board and make the most of the time that you have with somebody who is close to you?
I hope so!
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