Every day is twenty four hours long, but how many hours of every day do we really live?
Today is my Dad’s birthday and I wanted to write a post reflecting on the Dad I miss even after twenty eight years. Then I remembered a post, which I’d written almost two years ago. This post tells more than anything new I could write, what I learned from losing Dad so early and the legacy he left me.
Happy Birthday Dad. You may have had to leave too soon, but I like to think that you live on in all of us, and continue to make an impression on our everyday lives.
I hope there is a message in here for everyone.
How Much Of Every Day Do We Really Live?
How much of every day do we really live?
Will there come a time when we regret,
the moments, minutes, hours or days,
that we wasted in our lives?
As a nurse, I became very aware,
that time is precious.
When I was working in accident and emergency,
I would drive to work,
knowing that in some homes,
the day ahead would change their world.
For some that morning would be their last.
For others life would never be the same again.
When I first walked out onto a ward,
and saw people of all ages,
with life threatening conditions,
I feared illness.
My friends and I would talk together.
We would hope,
that when our time ran out,
that it would do so in a sudden unannounced bang!
Then illness came knocking on my door.
My 52 year old Dad was diagnosed with Motor Neuron disease.
No treatment, no cure.
His life would definitely not be long.
We were not even given hope.
Maybe a year or two if we were lucky,
but he would eventually have no quality of life.
As we looked down that road,
everything changed.
The endless days, months and years ahead did not exist.
Our future was to be very short.
For us in that moment time changed.
You would think that with time limited,
we would feel each day fly by,
and the end of life to be rushing towards us,
at a frightening speed.
However strangely that did not happen.
The opposite occurred.
Time slowed down.
There was still 60 seconds in every minute,
and each day lasted 24 hours.
However for all of us in our family,
the clock ticked louder.
We had no minutes to waste.
Time became precious,
and something we did not take for granted.
Each day now was made up of exactly 24 hours,
with not one second wasted.
For my Dad I cannot say what it meant,
to know he would not be staying long.
But I do know he had no bucket list.
My Dad lived on.
Just as he always did.
Working for a few more months,
until his health forced him to retire.
Enjoying his days as best he could,
and continuing to be a large presence in our lives,
even when movement and speech were gone.
It was during this time that my attitude to illness changed.
As I spoke at length to my Dad,
sharing my everyday life with him,
in a way a twenty year old never would do,
with a parent,
I came to realize,
that to be given this knowledge,
that time was limited,
and every day precious,
was in fact a privilege.
By being told as a family,
that for us our time with Dad was to be short,
we were in fact being given time.
Instead of a father at work,
and a family living busy lives,
we were a family living every moment.
There was no time wasted.
Every second counted.
Right up until the moment,
that time ran out.
In those bleak days, months and weeks,
after my Dads clock stopped,
time changed once more.
Each day was still made up of 24 hours,
yet each day seemed endless,
and the future which was short before Dad died,
now seemed too long.
Since then the days have turned into years.
The clock has continued to tick.
I have married and had children.
As time has passed I have lived through,
what seemed like the never ending long days,
of sleepless nights and crying children.
Now time has changed once more.
It is once again racing by.
My small babies are distant memories.
In a few weeks another of my brood will leave home.
I cannot slow time down.
Each day is 24 hours,
yet some days are just too short.
The clock that has ticked all my life,
continues unabated.
I do not know for how long it will tick,
but for today and everyday,
I appreciate my twenty four hours in every day,
and I try to make every minute count.
Each night as I turn out the light,
I smile, grateful for the day I had,
and know I am lucky to have a tomorrow to look forward to.
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photo credit: fiddle oak via photopin cc
My thoughts on a page. 
Thank you so much for sharing, this is exactly the perspective that I needed right now. Your dad’s memory lives on 🙂
I’m delighted you could get something out of it. His illness and death has changed forever the way I look at life.
I miss my Dad still. Thanks for sharing your lovely poem.
Yes grief really is forever. Actually when I blogged first I always wrote like this. I’ve no idea why but it came easy and I felt it was easier to read, but they weren’t meant as poems.
However I confused the blogging world so I conformed. 🙂
That was beautiful, Tric. ❤
Thanks Jackie.
Beautiful!
Very Beautiful!
Thank you. I’m glad you enjoyed it.
How wonderful that you had such a special dad and he a very special daughter. There are so many grown kids that don’t want anything to do with their parents and only want to dump on them.
My dad was very special, a lovely gent, and a great dad.
Very powerful and poignant. Thanks
Thanks Roly. It was lovely to remember him here on his birthday yesterday.
We all need this reminder every so often.
Yes it was good to read it again. I do live each day but little things sometimes get in the way.
what a lovely tribute to your dad 🙂
Thanks Arlene. I enjoyed sharing a moment here with him.
Tric, I’m sure your father would be thrilled to know that he has left such a legacy.
Lovely, loving post! xxx
He made no secret of the fact he was proud of all of us before he died. Glad you liked my post.
It sounds like he was a wonderful father. Those of us who have had those are so fortunate as their love never dies.
Incredible remembrance of your father, and a testament to his legacy Tric. He surely has a far reach in your lives. Happy birthday for your dad, and what a gift he gave.
Thank you Colleen. He made a big difference even though he didn’t get to see us blossom. I like to ‘keep him alive’ here.
I understand Tric. I think he would be honored.
Thank you for reminding me the importance of each moment.
Thanks April. It’s something we regularly forget. Life really is precious, and living in the moment is no bad thing.
i absolutely love this, tric. i miss my dad too –
Thanks Beth. It’s lovely to remember them, but the sadness never goes. If we didn’t miss them I suppose we wouldn’t have such great memories.
I can’t say anything except what’s already been said about this. It’s beautiful. We are all guilty of rushing through the 24 hours a day we are given. It’s good to remember to stop and really live those minutes we are given. Thanks for writing this.
You are welcome Deb. I’m sure with Mikes illness and passing you can relate to much of this.
Beautiful Tric, and oh so true x
Indeed Grainne. Time is precious, every day makes a difference.
What a beautiful reflection on the nature of time, especially time where every moment is clearly valued and understood. A touching post about your dad and how much he meant to you.
I’m not sure what to say, Tric. I know from reading other parts of your blog that you’ve had many difficult things happen in your life, but this was the first I’d heard about your father.
We don’t usually think of it this way, but we are all born with as much time as we will ever have. We never get any more of it, so we have to use our precious stock of hours, minutes and days as wisely as we can.
I’m sorry that you lost your father so very early. From your beautiful and heartfelt post, though, it’s clear you shared your remaining time together absolutely to the full, wringing out every last drop of tenderness and love from it.
Thank you for such a lovely comment. Over the past two years I’ve written many posts about Dad. It’s lovely to remember him here.
I’ll try to find some of them. It sounds like he was a lovely man.
Lovely tribute to your Dad, Tric. My Mother-in-Law has been gone for 23 years also and we still miss her…♥
Thank you. The years slip by but we never forget, which I suppose is a good thing too.