109th Edition
Quality Time
Have you ever wondered how much quality time you have left in your life? I guess I should try to define what I mean by quality time, since it is obviously a subjective concept. A few ideas…
- To think independently and clearly
- To engage in activities which bring you joy
- To thank, inspire, encourage, or serve another person, particularly someone who can’t repay you.
- To make someone laugh (or at least smile)
- To learn something new
- To forget or come to terms with a nagging disappointment
- To make progress toward a worthwhile goal
- To visit a beautiful place in God’s kingdom
- To remember what you want to and forget what you should
- To recall and execute an important routine
- To be confident enough to try something new
- To recover unassisted after a stumble
- To realize you aren’t as good as you once were, but still demonstrate that you are as good once, as you ever were (A tribute to Toby Keith)
- That you can still listen well
- That when you have something to say someone will enjoy listening
- That your unanswered questions no longer haunt you but bring you closer to God
- That you can still be silly in response to silliness, and serious when facing serious issues, and don’t get the two situations mixed up
- To control what should be controlled, but willingly let go of what shouldn’t.
What else would you add to the list? Are there activities that rob us of quality time even while we have the ability to enjoy it? Is being preoccupied with worries, anxieties, resentments, and disappointments preventing periods of quality time in your life? Is quality time only available after we’ve achieved certain goals, built a big enough nest egg, or accumulated enough stuff? Is there a preferred pace to quality time? Is going faster or slower, inherently better?
How much of all this is relational as opposed to an individual journey? Do you find more quality time with others or in solitude?
In your last lucid moment will you have any regrets?
I have a vision of what would be a very cool last lucid moment. It’s the night of my granddaughter’s wedding. She’s 30. I’m 95. My rented tuxedo fits a bit too snugly and I’d prefer jeans and a mock turtleneck. Everyone keeps telling me I look awesome, but I know they are just being nice, and I still feel like a mannequin. I nervously check the inside pocket of my jacket to make sure I have my speech. I glance at it a few times. I’ve been working on it for years and don’t plan to read it. Still, at my age, it’s comforting to know it’s there if I need it. My toast might take a while. At 95 you can talk as long as you want to. That should be a law.
I won’t bring up the topic of quality time. She is too young to think about it. She has a lifetime to live and learn and gain perspective. But one day, a long way off, she will start to wonder how much quality time she has left in her life. So, after our grandfather/granddaughter dance I’ll give her my list of ideas about quality time. Hopefully she will put them away in a safe place. And yes, I’ll still be able to dance at 95.
My first draft goes something like this…
Two secrets to a successful marriage are to not get the last word in and to not keep score. God gave us marriage not solely to make us happy, but to make us holy. Be faithful and obedient to God and keep Him at the center of your marriage. Honor each other. Find ways to serve rather than being served.
When you have children, don’t do things for them they can do themselves. Let them struggle, don’t rescue them too quickly. Struggling is how character is forged. Know that as they get older, they will learn more by how you act than by what you tell them. Live your own life by a code that you want your children to embrace.
When you get a dog, and all families with kids should have one, make sure it’s a rescue dog. They will teach everyone in the family about loyalty and unconditional love.
When your kids start school, encourage them to find out the janitor’s name. They will learn how to appreciate what others do for them AND they’ll learn that the janitor has the keys to the gym.
Call your grandfather every week, but not on Saturday, because I’ll be watching college football. And not on Tuesday because that’s the day I’ll be pole vaulting. That’s quality time for sure.
Since this might be my last chance to speak at a wedding, let me share a few other thoughts for all of you out there.
At my age it’s a blessing to even have lucid thoughts. Don’t take your thoughts for granted. They reveal who you are, they reveal a lifetime of experiences, of learning, of triumphs and failures, of joys and heartaches. And your thoughts, especially your last lucid thoughts, reveal your relationship with God. The final steps toward your ultimate destination. When you have no more questions you will be ever so close to your heavenly home.
My hope for all of you is that if you haven’t already, you will eventually find your passion. That you have dedicated yourself to living a life of integrity to the best of your ability, and most of all that you have willingly surrendered your will to the Father. For He loves you unconditionally, and so do I.
God Bless you all.
My speech ends to heartfelt, enthusiastic applause. As I say thank you and bask in one last moment of glory, I suddenly realize I don’t remember at which table I was sitting. All in all, for 95, I’ll take it.
Please help me grow my readership by forwarding this to a friend(s). In the meantime, stay tuned for my next newsletter. Thanks
Michael Kayes
*These views are my personal opinions and are not the viewpoints of any company or organization.