Looking back, I think I can accurately say that I was mourning the week that had just come to a close. I knew that it was time I'd never get back and there was so much that didn't get done, or relationships that needed mending.
**For those of you who don't know me, I'm not being overly dramatic here, I've always been super self-reflective, intuitive and sensitive to the emotions and needs of those around me...so it's not crazy that at 8, 10, 12 years old these things were going through my mind. Plus, I didn't have a smooth childhood so there was always plenty to reflect on.**
When I experienced my first real loss, I was in 7th grade. My Grandma Collier died. I remember someone teasing me for wearing my gym socks to English class...my response was, "My Grandma just died, like I care about my socks!!" I'm sure I mumbled an "idiot" or "loser" as I walked away, but that part is a little bit fuzzy. In eleventh grade my Grandpa Collier died. I'm pretty sure it was from a broken heart.
Papa never recovered after the loss of his parents. He was very close to them and being emotionally stunted and unavailable as he was, he never dealt with the loss which changed him forever.
When I started my senior year of high school, Papa was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. He fought for 5 years but finally was set free in October 2002.
At that point I realized how much I didn't pay attention as a child, teen and young adult. How many times Papa told me stories that I ignored because I thought there would be years and years to hear the story again. I knew very little about Papa's childhood, adolescence and the desires of his heart, beyond the obvious.
The old "Sunday night" feelings took hold and for years I walked around in a constant state of mourning. Not just morning the loss of my father, but mourning all the time I'd never get to spend with him and all the time I had wasted while he was still alive.
I felt I'd ruined everything (ok, a little dramatic, but that's how I felt) that I'd never feel whole because I'd lost so much, wasted so much time. It just slipped away without me even noticing, and POOF! Papa died and all his stories, jokes and tall tales died right along with him. Oh, how I'd treasure those stories now! If only, if only...
Eventually, Jesus filled the voids in my life and I knew that things, though different than I imagined, would be ok. Life would go on--just without Papa, but that too would eventually be ok.
God revealed to me that He created me to be deeply relational. That sharing experiences with those I love is what makes me happy, feel loved. I could be in Paris staring at the Eiffel Tower all alone and be miserable, yet find complete and utter happiness in figuring out how to inflate a flat tire on a scorching July day if doing so with a good friend.
Circumstances mean nothing to me...happiness occurs when doing anything with someone I care about.
I guess what it all comes down to is this song, and the message that before you know it, you'll be at the end of your days and if you're like most people, you'll have a list of "should haves" like the elderly man this song speaks of. But it doesn't have to be that way. You don't have to let it slip on by. You can stop right now, and change the course of your relationships, of your life, of the lives of others.
The message isn't new or surprising to me, it's the feeling I've had since all those Sunday nights ago when I just knew things were slipping away, important things, important relationships. I think that's why I am so busy, why my calendar is bursting each day-because I'm so afraid that I'll blink and it'll be ten years from now, and things, and people, will have slipped on by...that's my biggest fear.
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