I'm afraid most of us spend our a good part of our lives worried about all there is we need to do, and what we’re supposed to be doing to make each day more “productive.“ 

I often wish I could go back and enjoy the things I now miss. Or, the people, really. Like most people, I took the opportunities to spend time where it mattered most for granted. Maybe I thought there was something more important to do. Maybe I had to go to work. 

But now I'm at the age where I look back and see clearly what’s passed before me. I can think of specific times when I didn’t allow myself to take it all in and understand what I had right there in front of me.

I wish someone had taken me aside and told me one day, all I'd have left is memories.

I’m not sure it’s enough.

I spent a lot of beautiful, sunny days (and some cold, cloudy days) sitting at Beavertail in Jamestown, Rhode Island, watching the water crash against the rocks.

This painting makes me think of those days, especially the time I spent with my parents. My kids (the grandkids) were little then. 

My father was still alive. 

And I don’t know if this is true or not, but I have a feeling there was a point I‘d look at my watch and say it was time to go, even if we had nowhere to be.

I’m sure the sun hadn‘t even set.