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Tag Archives: Time

More Time

Pantry, Smoothie, Valentine's Dinner 018

I married that guy in the photo sixteen years ago yesterday. We are fortunate to have that much time on this wild and crazy ride of a marriage. I could post some sappy sentiment on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, or even here. But I won’t. This isn’t about us.

This is about those out there wishing they had more time.

You see, it’s now hard to celebrate our anniversary without remembering two couples. One couple, very good friends of ours and the other, very good friends and former co-workers of mine. Both women passed away two to two and a half years ago. One was around Christmas, the other a few short months later before we lost Grandma. T-Bear and Rinko would be celebrating sixteen years TODAY. Red and Chef would have celebrated six years a week ago today.

One of my former bosses lost her husband last summer. They would’ve celebrated fourteen years this past February.

There just isn’t enough time.

We go through life, day after day, without knowing the limit of our days. We behave as if life will go on until we are old, wrinkled, grey, and settled in a rocking chair on the porch. We get mad at our spouses and hold a grudge because, dammit WE are right, not them. We operate on the assumption that accidents, sudden or prolonged health issues, or tragic violence won’t separate us from our life partner.

I just wish there was more time for everyone.

 
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Posted by on May 23, 2014 in Uncategorized

 

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Precious Time

Me & AshThe holiday season is in full swing and that means families are traveling to see one another. We normally celebrate the holidays with Chaz’s family. It is not very often that we spend Thanksgiving or Christmas with my family. Four years ago we flew to California for Thanksgiving with my best friend and her family. Nine years ago we flew to California for what we thought would be our last Christmas with Papa, but he decided the family needed to be together without him.

While I tend to eschew traditions, it does not mean I do not enjoy them. For years, Christmas was normally a day of visiting several of my aunties and uncles homes throughout the day. I loved being able to spend time with them even if I saw them often. While they are my dad’s siblings, they are also like the older siblings I never had. They looked out for me while I was in college. They let me spend weekends in their homes and do laundry for free. Plus, I got to spend time with my little cousins.

I do not get to see them often at all anymore. Flying home to Hawai`i is a long and expensive trip. If I had it my way, I would fly home at least twice a year. As it is, I count myself lucky to be able to visit once every other year, and still the ten days is not nearly enough time in my eyes. I may not get to see them at Christmas since moving to the middle of the Mainland. It is close enough to Christmas that I am excited to be spending the weekend with them in Vegas for a family reunion; even if it is just a small fraction of my aunties and uncles who will be there and a handful of my cousins.

The little time I get with my family is precious. I cannot afford to waste it.

 
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Posted by on December 6, 2013 in Uncategorized

 

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Small Moments

I witnessed a moment I wish I could bottle. I went into Barnes & Noble after leaving my hairstylist. They are just a few doors away from each other. 

I walked by the Customer Service counter in the middle of the store and noticed a tall, white, bald man signing paperbacks. I continued on and did my circuit to check out cookbooks, sci-fi/fantasy, adult fiction, and teen fiction. Next, I made my way through the tables with the specials. This brought me back around to Customer Service. 

The man was still there with a large stack of books he signed. He was talking to another man in his fifties and a head shorter. He had a book pressed to him while he was talking to the author. I picked up the gist of the conversation quickly. The aspiring writer asked the author for advice on writing and getting published. I call him “aspiring writer” because he admitted he was not writing. He was asking the author for advice because he had no idea where to start. 

The author was kind, patient, and attentive with the aspiring writer. I listened to his advice and internally smiled and nodded as it is advice I have heard and read before from other writers. He made eye contact with the aspiring writer, recommended a book (the one he was holding), and gave him the time and full attention others would not be inclined to give. 

I was intrigued and kept “perusing” the table. Not because I needed to hear the advice he was imparting, but because he made an impression with this simple interaction and I was soaking it up. 

I stuck around long enough to find out the author’s first name. Larry. We crossed paths and I think I surprised him when he turned around. He nearly took out Superman on an endcap while we sidestepped each other and smiled. 

That moment with the aspiring writer stayed in my head. I shared it on Facebook and I still could not shake it. 

I was back in the store five days later hunting down the display of books that the author signed. 

Larry Correia is his name. 

Mr. Correia, you may not have sold the aspiring writer one of your books (yet), but you sold one to this writer. Never lose your generous spirit. 

Larry Correia

 
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Posted by on August 23, 2013 in Uncategorized

 

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