I know it's a cliche, but it's accurate. The reason it works well is because it's releavent to so many peopel in so many situations.
You never know what you've got 'till it's gone. That's what they say.
Summer is here and almost gone. Slightly depressing if you think about it. But that might just be a matter of perspective. We can lament over the fact that there will be no more trips to the lake, no more late night campfires, and no more early mornings spent staring at the stars, watching the big dipper take a giant scoop of the horizon and dump it into worlds beyond as the sun rises. Or, we can look forward to the leaves turning breathtaking shades of red and orange, our breath dancing across the crisp night air like a ribbon dancer, and the smell of corn and hay as it is set free from it's earthly bonds by the farmer harvesting his field down the road. For me, I choose to think about the former. I imagine it's because I have a love affair with summer.
Whatever the reason, it is true that you never know what you've got till it's gone.
In fact, I'm convinced that we are never more motivated to show those around us that we love them until we think we are going to lose them. But why? Why do we put ourselves through this? Doesn't it make the most sense to show those around us how we feel all the time, so that it never has to come to that awful point where we are frantically running around trying to think every little thing we can do in order to save that important relationship, friendship, or love interest? Of course it does. But for whatever reason we let the other things get between us.
You know what I'm talking about. Instead of going to your nephew's baseball game, you go "out with your friends." Instead of popping by Grandma and Grandpa's house, you rush home after work to inhale the rerun of "America's Got Talent." Instead of calling your girlfriend to tell her you love her, you go golfing with the guys. But why?
Selfishness, I'm sure. Lazyness, yes. Carelessness, absolutely.
Grandma, your nephew, your gilriend: they didn't seem too important at the time.
Now they do.
Now that you've had time to think about it, them. Now that you've pictured Jack hitting the ball 20 yards and the look on his face that says he knows he hit it at least 2 miles, or smelled your Grandma's slightly stale perfume as it mixes with the sweet aroma of fresh cookies and the ironically tantilizing odor of Granpa's gas can in the garage. Or now that you've heard your girlfriend's soft laugh as you tell a joke that only she would get, knowing that she's laughing at it only because you told it. Try running that corny line by anyone else and they will stare at you as if their eyes are glass and you are the new main attraction at the San Diego Zoo. Have a little more time, don't you?
You never know what you've got 'till it's gone.
I know because I've become selfish and sedintary. I'm sure those around me have noticed. I'm sure there are relationships that have suffered. Take my family. While I am physically with them, we're already miles apart. See, sometimes I'm more interested in how I feel than I am in how others feel or what they might be going through. You have to undertand that I don't like goodbyes or endings, especially those that close out great chapters. So I check out early. I draw back and pull away in an attempt to make the actual goodbye that much easier. It must be part of the preparation. The dealing. The coping. How backwards we think sometimes. How selfish we are.
But what if we could know?
What if every once in awhile we, something, or someone else were able to snap us out of ourselves and allow us a glimps into what we've got before it's gone?
W'ed go to the game.
We'd stop by the house.
We'd give her a call.
We'd save ourselves so much wishing. So much guessing. So much hoping.
We may never completely figure out why we slip into selfishness, but we can prevent ourselves from the other "why?" The why that says, "why didn't you do anything about it? You knew it, but why didn't you stop it, change it, take action?" That is the why that can be most dangerous.
I'm content with asking the first one, but not the second. I don't ever want to get there...again.
You never know what you've got 'till it's gone. That's what they say.
Summer is here and almost gone. Slightly depressing if you think about it. But that might just be a matter of perspective. We can lament over the fact that there will be no more trips to the lake, no more late night campfires, and no more early mornings spent staring at the stars, watching the big dipper take a giant scoop of the horizon and dump it into worlds beyond as the sun rises. Or, we can look forward to the leaves turning breathtaking shades of red and orange, our breath dancing across the crisp night air like a ribbon dancer, and the smell of corn and hay as it is set free from it's earthly bonds by the farmer harvesting his field down the road. For me, I choose to think about the former. I imagine it's because I have a love affair with summer.
Whatever the reason, it is true that you never know what you've got till it's gone.
In fact, I'm convinced that we are never more motivated to show those around us that we love them until we think we are going to lose them. But why? Why do we put ourselves through this? Doesn't it make the most sense to show those around us how we feel all the time, so that it never has to come to that awful point where we are frantically running around trying to think every little thing we can do in order to save that important relationship, friendship, or love interest? Of course it does. But for whatever reason we let the other things get between us.
You know what I'm talking about. Instead of going to your nephew's baseball game, you go "out with your friends." Instead of popping by Grandma and Grandpa's house, you rush home after work to inhale the rerun of "America's Got Talent." Instead of calling your girlfriend to tell her you love her, you go golfing with the guys. But why?
Selfishness, I'm sure. Lazyness, yes. Carelessness, absolutely.
Grandma, your nephew, your gilriend: they didn't seem too important at the time.
Now they do.
Now that you've had time to think about it, them. Now that you've pictured Jack hitting the ball 20 yards and the look on his face that says he knows he hit it at least 2 miles, or smelled your Grandma's slightly stale perfume as it mixes with the sweet aroma of fresh cookies and the ironically tantilizing odor of Granpa's gas can in the garage. Or now that you've heard your girlfriend's soft laugh as you tell a joke that only she would get, knowing that she's laughing at it only because you told it. Try running that corny line by anyone else and they will stare at you as if their eyes are glass and you are the new main attraction at the San Diego Zoo. Have a little more time, don't you?
You never know what you've got 'till it's gone.
I know because I've become selfish and sedintary. I'm sure those around me have noticed. I'm sure there are relationships that have suffered. Take my family. While I am physically with them, we're already miles apart. See, sometimes I'm more interested in how I feel than I am in how others feel or what they might be going through. You have to undertand that I don't like goodbyes or endings, especially those that close out great chapters. So I check out early. I draw back and pull away in an attempt to make the actual goodbye that much easier. It must be part of the preparation. The dealing. The coping. How backwards we think sometimes. How selfish we are.
But what if we could know?
What if every once in awhile we, something, or someone else were able to snap us out of ourselves and allow us a glimps into what we've got before it's gone?
W'ed go to the game.
We'd stop by the house.
We'd give her a call.
We'd save ourselves so much wishing. So much guessing. So much hoping.
We may never completely figure out why we slip into selfishness, but we can prevent ourselves from the other "why?" The why that says, "why didn't you do anything about it? You knew it, but why didn't you stop it, change it, take action?" That is the why that can be most dangerous.
I'm content with asking the first one, but not the second. I don't ever want to get there...again.
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