I wish . . .

An amazing woman from our church is in the hospital, dying by inches from a cerebral aneurysm. It was a lightning stroke out of blue skies, and her husband and children have wrestled for the last week with what it all means, and what may be to come. It’s incredibly sad, and thought-provoking. It doesn’t make me ask why – the Lord is lord of this too – but it prompts a lot of other things.
It makes me wish I’d told my daughter more often what a beautiful person she is, and my son how proud he makes me. And it makes me grateful they both found and married good people who are good for them.
It makes me want to be a better life partner for my wife, who puts up with an awful lot from me.
It makes me wish I saw more of my siblings, including my in-laws. Great people, all of them, and I’m always better for the time I spend with them.
It makes me wonder if I’m doing justice to my parents, who have a right to expect more attention from a son who lives less than a mile away.
It makes me hope that, just as I did with my son, I’ll be able to teach my grandson to climb trees, paddle a canoe, build a fire, skinny-dip, grill a steak, love God.
It makes me want to listen more, and talk less.
It makes me wonder what my legacy will be. From what I can see, the list of lives touched, people served, and values transferred is pretty short, especially compared to the woman who prompted this line of thinking.
It makes me wish I knew more about art and literature and music and current events and scripture. It makes me wish I knew less about bars, the occult, off-color humor, violence and how to get away with goofing off at work.
When I was in college I made a list of things I wanted to do in my lifetime. I never checked off most of the mountains I wanted to climb, trails I wanted to hike, wonders I wanted to see, wealth I wanted to accumulate, and fame I wanted to achieve. But it really doesn’t matter. That’s a young man’s list, written when I didn’t have much context. It’s self-centered and reflects an immature understanding of what makes a good life.
Instead, what I have is 40+ years of mostly successful relationships, no debt and enough money to help other people, a small handful of things I’m better at than most, and somewhere between an hour and 50 years to do something with it all. That’s good enough for me, and more than I deserve.