Never Forget to Live
My father, brother and I were playing poker together, which is dad’s opportunity to have us around him, chatting about life. It wasn’t about the game, it was about his way to connect with us.
At 88 years of age, most people can’t hear very well in public places. Most can’t handle long car rides. Museums and attractions keep everyone’s attention on the exhibits rather than each other. A card game, however, kept us all together at the same spot.
As we were playing, I looked over at dad’s hands. All wrinkled, darkened with veins, roughened through years of hard work. But behind all of his old skin is the same person. It was still dad in his entire lightness of being.
I couldn’t help but look at my own hands to see how different they were to his. That’s when I understood, no matter how many anti-aging miracle creams we use, at the end of the day, we are all ageing.
There isn’t much we can do against life, but what we can do is seize all the moments and opportunities that come our way, putting our full attention on the people who are in our company.
I work hard. Maybe too hard. But I know now that I should still find a way to enjoy the simple things in life, searching for enjoyment in mundane activities.
I should never forget to live.