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I’m a pro­cras­ti­na­tor. Not of things on my To-Do list. Not of home­work. Not of housework.

I pro­cras­ti­nate at grab­bing my hus­band for a quick kiss. I put off telling my chil­dren how much I appre­ci­ate them. I dis­re­gard those fleet­ing thoughts of mak­ing some­thing in par­tic­u­lar special.

I read a story recently that reminded me what can hap­pen in mere sec­onds. And of course the Erma Bombeck poem has stuck with me for years (see below).

I know it’s in the lit­tle things. I have a salt/pepper set that comes out every fall. They’re shaped and painted to look like beau­ti­ful Fall leaves. I always put them out…but never to use. This year I looked at them and paused to won­der why not? So I did. The reac­tion from the boys have been astounding…they can’t use them with­out say­ing some­thing. A sim­ple deci­sion to make some­thing special.

I hope I remem­ber to con­tinue this out­look for years to come.

If I had my life to live over, I would have talked less and lis­tened more.

I would have invited friends over to din­ner even if the car­pet was stained and the sofa faded.

I would have eaten the pop­corn in the ‘good’ liv­ing room and wor­ried much less about the dirt when some­one wanted to light a fire in the fireplace.

I would have taken the time to lis­ten to my grand­fa­ther ram­ble about his youth.

I would never have insisted the car win­dows be rolled up on a sum­mer day because my hair had just been teased and sprayed.

I would have burned the pink can­dle sculpted like a rose before it melted in storage.

I would have sat on the lawn with my chil­dren and not wor­ried about grass stains.

I would have cried and laughed less while watch­ing tele­vi­sion — and more while watch­ing life.

I would have shared more of the respon­si­bil­ity car­ried by my husband.

I would have gone to bed when I was sick instead of pre­tend­ing the earth would go into a hold­ing pat­tern if I weren’t there for the day.

I would never have bought any­thing just because it was prac­ti­cal, wouldn’t show soil or was guar­an­teed to last a lifetime.

Instead of wish­ing away nine months of preg­nancy, I’d have cher­ished every moment and real­ized that the won­der­ment grow­ing inside me was the only chance in life to assist God in a miracle.

When my kids kissed me impetu­ously, I would never have said, “Later. Now go get washed up for dinner.”

There would have been more “I love you’s”.. More “I’m sorrys” …

But mostly, given another shot at life, I would seize every minute… look at it and really see it … live it…and never give it back.