I've already set my list of resolutions. 13 of them for 2013. But a little something I read this morning, by Matthew Kelly, got me thinking and I may just have to revise my list. 13 resolutions, plus one to grow on! Here is what I read:
"Less than two years ago, my father died after a long-drawn-out battle with the tyrant we call cancer. My father was an extraordinary man. Not that he invented something that changed the course of human history; no, he was extraordinary in the very ordinary things of life. As a husband and a father, as an employee and a friend, as a member of his local community and as a citizen of his nation. The world is richer, and a better place, because he lived.
Every day I think about him. I ponder what he would do if he were faced with decisions and situations I am faced with. There are times when I wish I could meet him for lunch and just talk. Sometimes when I am feeling sorry for myself, I become sad because he will never meet the woman I marry or know my children. They will never know him. There is so much of my life yet to be lived that I will not be able to share with him.
There is a memory that refuses to leave me. With my brothers I am carrying his coffin from the church after his funeral. One thought etched itself in my mind at that moment. I thought to myself, I wish I had known him better.
There are just so many things that I wish I could talk to him about one more time, and I can see us both sitting in front of the TV...
I had a wonderful father and a wonderful relationship with him. He made it a priority to make memories with me, and I treasure those now that he is gone. But he is gone, and I wish I knew more about his childhood, more about his parents, more about how he found his way when he was young. I wish I knew how he felt about things we never thought to discuss. I often wonder whether he held some knowledge that would help me further understand my path and the life I am being called to live.
All of this is just a young man who misses his father. But his dying has taught me one last lesson: take the time to get to know the people you love, deeply, for one day they will no longer be there, and when that day comes we will all wish we had known them better."
How well do you really know your father or your mother? Your brother or sister? How about your spouse and your children? Is it possible to truly love and care for these people and to truly want the best for them if you don't even care enough to get to know more about who they really are? on a deeper level? How much of your time together is spent "sitting in front of the TV", and what is that worth in the long run? If that person were gone tomorrow, what would you regret? What would you wish you could know about them that you hadn't thought to ask before? What are the things you would miss most about them? What would you regret not doing together? I'm going to be thinking about that, and this year I will resolve to start asking...and listening...and learning...and doing...more.
