Tell them...and mean it!

Why is it we only reflect on important things when it is usually past the time for action upon that reflection? It happened to me last night.

I live in Sweden now. In fact, this Thursday, the 25th, will be my first anniversary living here in Stockholm. The Viking Princess and I were planning our first trip of the year to the Jänköpings area on the long holiday weekend to celebrate.

I have had no regrets about the move, except for the missing my sons, family and friends. But like most people, the day-to-day activities of life keep pushing the longing in the background. We substitute the personal contact with the phone call and e-mail and call it satisfactory. We will see you “soon”, we say. Or “when will we be seeing you?” And then, most of us don’t follow up. It’s too expensive or we don’t have the time.

Three things have occurred to me this last year where the validity of those statements falls short of the reality they ignore.

Last night I received word that one of my brothers had a severe accident that caused major trauma to his head. It looks good for recovery now as it seems he has all his motor skills but he is still a bit disoriented. He has to be kept sedated because in his self reliant way, when he gains consciousness, he wants to be freed of the restraints and tubes he’s connected to in spite of his not knowing where he is.


Before I moved here, we lived less than a mile apart. That means I would have been the one contacted and would have been the one on the scene insuring his comfort and
treatment. Because of the move I am not but my oldest son is and he is taking on the responsibility for his uncle. But you can sense my feeling of anxiety that I wasn’t there for him.

Earlier in this past year, a dear friend had a heart attack. It was a big one but fortunately for his wife and children, he has recovered. I’m sure he is a little wiser about his health and has learned to pace himself at work. We corresponded often during his down time, as I was also being treated for a blood disorder. But I’m sure we both would have liked to be there for each other.

Finally, my mother, who I wote about on Mother’s Day, has diabetes. As she is 80 years old, my time with her becomes very precious. She doesn’t use a computer, so I have to rely on the phone, which the VP makes sure I use on a regular basis. She will get to meet the Viking Princess this fall. At least, that’s our plan.

If these three events over the last year have indicated anything to me it is this. There are no guarantees in this life. And each of us must live in the now. Any one who has seen combat can tell you a story about talking to someone and minutes later they were gone. How we are shocked when we hear about so and so that was in an accident or had a medical condition that took their life suddenly.

That some one you knew became paralyzed by stroke. How the disease called Alzheimer’s has robbed them of their present. People, we just don’t know how or when it will happen. But we can remember the times when we have said they were so young or how we were just talking to them the other day.

What I’m saying is nothing new. There are people more articulate than I who have expressed it better. But don’t let anything stand in the way of being with the people you have ever loved and cared for. If you haven’t got in touch with them, do so. If you meet them in person at a get together or a chance meet in the grocery store, treat it as something special. It could be your last. If something petty keeps you apart, solve it before it’s too late to do so. Make that visit, dial that phone, and let the people you care for know that you do.


Hey, brother, get well soon!

And you, the other one, I love you, too!