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Days of our lives

Where does the time go?

That phone call to a friend or lunch date may be pushed farther on our calendars until a more opportune time.

There is always so much to accomplish and only so many hours from sunrise until sunset. And, of course, if time is spent on social media a big chunk of our day can literally disappear leaving us scrambling to complete our tasks.

In short, it is easy to work away the hours or while them away. No matter how we fill our schedules one thing is certain, the days of our lives flow into weeks, and weeks into months. One morning much to our astonishment the young person we once saw in the mirror has been replaced. Who could have played such a dirty trick?

This week while browsing on Facebook my eyes were riveted on a post from an old friend from my high school days. He didn’t post pictures from a recent trip or share some other pleasantry. He shared news of stage four cancer, radiation and chemo.

The flurry of people who sent messages of encouragement and comfort was heartwarming but caused me to do a little reflecting.

This was a dear old friend who in my mind’s eye was young, handsome, strong and healthy. Little did I know he was facing such a battle. The years have hurried by, and I haven’t made time to attend my class reunion for several years. Maybe I should take the time.

What is in our rearview mirror may not be what we want to see unless we plan and follow through with the things that are really important.

If you have a dream don’t wait until tomorrow. Start today. We all have something still inside us that someone else needs. There are songs to be sung, books to be written and precious memories to be made.

I have been writing since my little girl fingers could hold a pencil on note pads, notebooks, scraps of paper and now my laptop. My life has been chronicled in diary after diary hidden away from peering eyes. Writing brings me joy and in some way is part of who I am.

When my father couldn’t stay at home anymore and went to a nursing home, his memory started to fail, and it was hard to converse with him. My salvation was a little book called “A Father’s Legacy.” It was filled with story starters, which jogged his memory. I sat for hours listening to my daddy talk about his childhood and wrote every word. Now I have a perfectly wonderful family history from my dad’s perspective. Sitting at the nursing home with my dad was not always something I wanted to do, but I look back now and cherish every moment. Sometimes the difficult choices bring the greatest reward.

There is no perfect time. Do it now. He who observes the wind will not sew, and he who regards the clouds will not reap. (KJV Ecclesiastes 11:1)

Jan Penton Miller can be reached at lilsisjan@yahoo.com.