Time, you vex me.  You elude me like a child playing tag.  I zig, you zag, you bob, I weave.  No matter how well I treat you, you always leave.  They say you are like sand in an hour glass, but here in Mudville, you are like the West Texas sand blowing in the wind.  How can anyone fathom that you are cruel, when it is with exuberant joy that we drink from every second we share with you.  Some would deem you cruel for the manner which you hide your scheduled departure from each of us, but as has been said about life; one should not cry because life (or time) is gone, celebrate that life (or time) was here at all!  CELEBRATE!  Enjoy the moment!  Carpe diem!  Strike while the iron is hot!  There is no time like the present!  Why put off until tomorrow what can be done today?!  Each and everyone of these cliches is prodding us to take the opportunity that is before us while we can.

And so I do.

I call my son and I call my daughter and I've even been better about calling some of my siblings.  I spend time with my mom, but I don't just spend time with her; I strive to amuse her.

This morning we were each doing our own morning "get ready for the day" dance.  She comes in with her sweat suit on for therapy and she is asking for help with her sleeve.  The liner gets twisted and she can't get her arm all the way in to the sleeve.  I turn her around and straighten her jacket, then I ask her to hold her arms out like she is on a cross.  Gullibly, she holds them out without thinking and at that point I tickle her ribs and she squeals.  A cute little girl squeal with just a  faint hint of laughter erupts from her lungs.

It is all I need.  I hope it makes her morning.  With that being accomplished it is off to the routine....with a smile on our faces.

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A few weeks ago, Mom and I were invited to a St. Patrick's Day party.  It was hosted by a few fellow catholics (who have been hosting this shindig off and on for forty years).  We went, we mingled, we had a beer or two (or three or four), we took some photos and I got to hear a few stories about my dad from people who knew him from forty years ago.  One gentleman was telling me about the first time he met dad at a church volleyball outing.  He spiked the ball on my dad's head and my dad asked him if he wanted to fight.  Yep, sounds just like my dad.  I got a laugh out of it and got to meet some nice people.
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Time, I steal my moments with you.  Little moments when no one else is looking.  We flirt, we laugh we just relax with one another.  Nowhere to be, nothing to do, just the two of us enjoying each other while we can.