The Gift of Time

Two years ago on Christmas day, my dad started crying at the dinner table before we started eating. It was a normal Christmas day for us (...if you can consider a world wild pandemic normal) as him, my mom and I sat around the table like we had done a million times before, in our unofficial assigned seat: me to the right of my mom because she's left banded and my dad across from her. As we bowed our heads to bless the food, I heard the slightest sounds of weeping. You'd almost miss it if you didn't realize how off that was for him. He didnt say anything. No one spoke. But he just cried, and cried and cried.... my mom and I didn't ask. We both just sat there, and let whatever he was feeling find it's way out.

My chest immediately felt tight because watching your parents cry just has a different feeling on a kid, especially when it's not a frequent thing. I wanted to do something or say something but I was completely at lost. My mom waited patiently, probably because she knew him better than I ever could, and waited for husband to get out his big feelings.

And just as quickly as the tears started they ended. We started eating dinner, the jokes started to flu around the table and we had a really good pandemic Christmas day, just the three of us.

Leading up to that day, my dad hadn't been feeling well, but it was nothing to be concerned with, especially in comparison to a global panda express. Unfortunately that would be our last Christmas together, and less than five months later he would be gone.


Today was my second offical Christmas without my dad and it got me thinking. By no means do I want my "content" to turn into grief eassys and sad girl feelings but something today stuck with me. I couldn't shake this idea that maybe he knew what was coming. That he knew it might be his very last Christmas with us. I wonder if he knew how much more time he had on this side...

Time.

The concept of time being the ultimate gift repeating in my mind over and over on Christmas day is not lost on me. The irony simply writes itself. But the truth is, none of us really know how much time we get to have here on Earth. We toss around the idea of time as if it's something thats easy to corne by:

I ran out of time
There wasn't enough time
If I had more time
I couldn't get it done it time
A waste of time

I wonder if we'd value our time more if we knew exactly how much we had left...

I'll never know if my dad knew more about his feeling under the weather than be shared with my mother and me. I'm not sure if he knew that his days were numbered. But I do hope the time we got to spend together, especially in the last six months, was everything be needed it to be. I hope I did enough and said enough every day so he knew how much I loved him. I hope I was the daughter that he wanted and I wish I had more time to do more things to know he was proud of me. I wish he got to have grandkids, and father daughter wedding dances and see my promotions... And even come to the park again to see me in "that green one with the fur".

Every single day I wake up and wish I had more time with him. And every single night I am thankful for the time that we had. And that's just how it goes these days... The highest highs and lowest lows all in a day's time...

If you're reading this, I pray you get time. Time to do things you've always wanted to. To say the things you need to say. To live the life you deserve to live. I pray you get the time to see your goals manifest to reality. To fall in love with someone who loves you big. To try all the things... The scary things, the big things, the small things and everything in between. I hope you find time to forgive yourself, love yourself and give yourself grace. I hope you find time to slow down when you need to and rest when you need to. Time to laugh more, cry more, and feel every moment of every day while you still have the chance.


But more than anything I hope you don't waste your time. No more wasting time on the small things, or even the small things that feel bigger than they should. No more wasting time on people who don't see you, love you and choose to be there for you. No more wasting time on complaining about what you can't change, who you can't change and why you can't change them. No more wasting time on small thinking, small people and smaller situations. Less time wondering what people may think or might say, and more time doing and living the life you want to live.

They say Time is the ultimate gift, but so are YOU. Don't wasre YOU or your time.

I miss my dad everyday. Every single moment of every single day. And although it seems like the world quickly forgets about your pain, the grief of it all doesn't go away very quickly either. I grieve every single moment of every day. So maybe this whole post was for me. A reminder to give myself more time. Time to be angry, time to be sad, more time to cry and more time to grieve. But also time to reflect and be happy, and laugh and enjoy life because I deserve that too... We had the best times. And I can only hope that I spend the rest of my time here on Earth making him proud.

Merry Quismois and Happy New Year