Living, and Loving, With Intention

I had a dream Friday night that was really disturbing. I dreamed that I woke up in the morning to find out five years had passed since I went to bed the night before. Five years that I could not remember. Doug had difficulty convincing me it was true, and what I remember feeling the most as he described all of these events that had occurred in our lives over the past years, besides discombobulated, was the sheer devastation that I had "missed" five years with him. Meeting later in life gives us limited time anyway, (which obviously my subconscious also worries about given this dream) and now, for me at least, I had lost five more years since I had no memories of them.  

I have always had difficulty with time passing. I remember as Dalton was growing up, every night as I reached over to turn off my lamp and go to sleep, I had that desperate feeling of another day of his childhood gone. Another day closer to the day he leaves and heads out on his own. I feel it now with my parents, especially since moving so far away. Every moment with them feels so important and I fight to enjoy the time versus worry about the limited time we have left. Whether it's a week or 30 years, either way, it's not enough. And it wasn't enough with Dalton. And it won't be enough with Doug. I struggle with this. I want to be the kind of person who just fully enjoys and lives in the moment, but I'm not. And I don't know how to become that. 

In mulling over my dream, (while running of course, 'cause that's where most of my "deep" thoughts happen!) I realized this desperate feeling the passing of time creates in me is closely related to my aversion to apathy. I have always been concerned about falling into apathy, letting my life pass by while I go through the motions. Not living, but existing. Every night when I turned off that lamp, I was intentional about thinking about that day, being grateful for it, acknowledging the time I had with Dalton and the appreciation for it, regardless of whether it was a great day or a tough one. My desperateness to savor it led to an unwillingness to let it go by unnoticed. That trait, I think, is what led to Live on Purpose becoming a sort of theme for my life. So, while the desperate feeling of time being finite and slowly dwindling is uncomfortable and scary, it also ensures I treasure the time and try to live each day with intention. Going through the motions is not an option; life is too short. 

One of my favorite quotes is "The days are long, but the years are short." I have to admit, some of the 6,500+ days I had with Dalton felt sooooooo long. But, man oh man, the years flew by. And that's WITH attempting to acknowledge and savor and appreciate each one. I am grateful I didn't let them all go by without notice, just going through the motions while waiting for the end of the workday or the weekend to come or the next vacation or raise or fill-in-the-blank next thing that would make our lives "so much better." I intentionally tried to remember to stop and smell the roses. And Doug and I try to do that also. I don't want one day with him to be taken for granted. I don't want to fall into apathy and come up for air one day to discover I've just been going through the motions. I want to be intentional in loving him, every day. And I may be the luckiest girl in the world that he feels the exact same. 

Be that. Find that. And don't settle for less than that.