When I was nine months pregnant, our neighbour’s three year old son was tragically killed when a family member backed into him with a trailer. It was a defining moment for me as I was reminded that not all babies make it to adulthood.
Right then I decided to make the most of whatever time I had with my new baby, so as not to have any regrets later.
A few weeks later, when my sweet, fragile (and yet demanding) son was wide awake at two in the morning and fussing, I was reminded how lucky I was to have him. I looked into his eyes, and just enjoyed this wonderful new creation for the whole hour that he was awake. I studied his pudgy fingers, and deeply inhaled the smell of his crinkled neck. I ran my hands over his wispy hair and watched his little mouth pucker into a circle..
Each time I tried to settle him at 2am, or changed another toxic looking nappy, or even wondered where my social life went, I knew there would come a time when I might wish I could hold my precious baby once more.
As my other five sons came along, life became busier, and it became harder to feel like I was making the most of my time. Spills, tantrums, and the mess created by eight people living in one house, meant I often forgot the importance of enjoying the moment.
But if we are to be happy, we need to make the most of the time we have and the situation we are in.
Every moment passes; good or bad. We each choose how we spend the precious 86,400 seconds we are given each day. I believe we need to put more importance on how we spend our time than how we spend our money. I also believe that we give our life for that which we spend our time.
Every decision, every action, every moment can take us closer to feeling good about ourselves, or to feeling disappointment. For some, this might mean setting priorities and filling our calendar with worthy and useful activities. For others, just asking ourselves as often as possible “Is what I am doing now the best use of my time?”
Now that my children are adults, I sometimes ponder on death of the cute little blond haired boy who had done nothing worse than refuse to eat his broccoli, or perhaps draw on the bedroom wall in red crayon. I am glad I made the most of those times with my babies, even though I was often tired and sleepy.
None of us is guaranteed to live tomorrow. Perhaps we need to be reminded of that sometimes so we will make the most of today.
The post It’s About Time appeared first on Heart and Soul Ezine.