Time... After Time

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about time.

Of course, tis the season. In the days between Christmas and New Year’s Eve I think most of us reflect, look back, look inward and worry that we’ve wasted another year.

Time.

You can’t buy it.
You can't actually save it, no matter how often we use the phrase.
You can't make more of it.
You can't take it back.
You can't pay it forward.

But when push comes to shove, it’s really all we have.

 Time.

2018 was both the best and the worst year of my life and boy, did time behave strangely for me. All of those days pre-transplant that I spent sitting on my couch, on my deck or in a hospital bed seemed to creep by at a glacial pace, but as each week ended and I could feel my heart winding down… it felt like it was going by too quickly, it felt like I was running out of time.

And then suddenly, on July 22 at approximately 10:14 a.m., time stopped.  My heart beat its last beat. And then about one hour after that, when my surgeon placed a stranger’s heart in my chest, I received the only thing that any of us ever need: More time.

I have more time.

I HAVE MORE TIME! 

And I’m determined to use it well, starting with this New Year’s Eve. I will not spend it beating myself up about all of the things I did not accomplish this year or in previous years. I will not mope about the trips not taken, the friends not seen, the goals not met. I will not recount my losses. All of that self-flagellation... you guys, it’s meaningless. This year I married the love of my life and I beat death, and I mean, how much more triumphant can one year be?

As for the New Year, I will not spend it making resolutions. My whole life is a resolution… and it starts now.

I’m here.
I lived.
I'm so grateful.
And I'm going to make the most of my time.

I wish the same for you.

 Happy New Year, you guys.