Remember how much we love those we love

This post is part of the General Conference Odyssey. This week covers the Saturday Afternoon Session of the October 1977 Conference.

I really liked Elder Paul H. Dunn's talk from this session, "We Have Been There All the Time." It was on the sentimental side…but that fits my mood these days. His title comes from the idea that if we, like children on a long car trip, are constantly asking, "Are we there yet?" "How long will it take?" about our life's journey, we will miss out on the simple moments that we should be enjoying along the way. He talks especially about the need to appreciate our family members for who they are, and to enjoy them in spite of everyday annoyances. I liked the introspective questions here:

Why do those sudden moments of clarity, when we realize how precious our loved ones are, come so rarely? How do we let ourselves get caught up in faultfinding, digging, or scolding at those who are nearest our hearts? Is it ever worth it? As C. S. Lewis once advised, “Take care. It is so easy to break eggs without making omelettes.”

With a new baby in my arms all the time, I'm constantly thinking about how fast time is passing, and how fleeting the years really are, so I was nodding along in agreement with everything Elder Dunn was saying. And I was thinking about how often, even as I'm panicking because baby Ziggy is growing and changing so fast, I'm forgetting that all the other concurrent stages are passing too, for good or ill.

I saw the following graphic in an article this week (there's some bad language at that link, sorry), and in my current mental state it just about put me over the edge. Here's what the article says about the graphic:

I’ve been thinking about my parents, who are in their mid-60s. During my first 18 years, I spent some time with my parents during at least 90% of my days. But since heading off to college and then later moving out of Boston, I’ve probably seen them an average of only five times a year each, for an average of maybe two days each time. 10 days a year. About 3% of the days I spent with them each year of my childhood. 

Being in their mid-60s, let’s continue to be super optimistic and say I’m one of the incredibly lucky people to have both parents alive into my 60s. That would give us about 30 more years of coexistence. If the ten days a year thing holds, that’s 300 days left to hang with mom and dad. Less time than I spent with them in any one of my 18 childhood years.

When you look at that reality, you realize that despite not being at the end of your life, you may very well be nearing the end of your time with some of the most important people in your life. If I lay out the total days I’ll ever spend with each of my parents—assuming I’m as lucky as can be—this becomes starkly clear:

 

Red shows the days already spent. Grey is the days left. Isn't that terrifying?? And it made me feel so strange to think that with my own kids, once they move out of the house, our meaningful time together will not just be partly over—it will be mostly over. Probably like 90% over, even if we are lucky enough to live fairly close to each other, even if we are lucky enough to live long healthy lives. And of course, we know that the end could come much sooner than that for any of us. Really sobering to think about. Am I taking advantage of this time with the people I love?

Elder Dunn says,

Yes, even amidst our meetings and our commitments we need to really see: to see the way his eyes wrinkle when he laughs, see the tilt of her head as the light catches her hair, remember his dash of humor. Maybe when things get in the saddle and ride us, we need to step back for a moment of clarity. We need to remember why we are doing all of this—remember how much we love those we love.

Then he continues,

Concern yourself first with individuals, with relationships, with loved ones. What else really matters? Don’t imagine yourself, regardless of who you are, busier than the Lord, who puts souls first above everything else.

I wish I could have a flashing neon sign constantly reminding me of this. Or maybe a beeping alarm that delivers a mild electric shock every time I forget it (ha ha). Because I'm constantly forgetting it! But I need to somehow remember, as Elder Dunn says, WHY I am here on this earth, in this family. I need to find that clarity that shows things as they really are, points me back to Heavenly Parents and Jesus Christ, and reminds me just how fiercely and constantly I should be loving those I love.

Other posts in this series:

• The No Vote by Nathaniel Givens
• A Pentecost from Modern Church History by G
• A Special Moment of Our Own by Jan Tolman