When I was at secondary school, I sat next to a girl in math called Charlotte.
Charlotte and I became firm friends, and over the years have continued to be friends. I am godmother ot her first born child. Not a very good one, but that's me - I'm rubbish at stuff like that. She is 14 now - the same age her mother and I were when we met! They now stay on the south coast of England.
A couple of days ago, her brother was in my area dropping off a car, and he was going to be literally about 500 yards away from my house, so I offered him a bed for the night.
Now, I've not seen this lad since my son was 2 months old - so 8 years. Man, he's lived those years. We sat up yapping till 1.15 (which is unheard of for me!) talking about what we did way back when, and what we have been doing since then.
I don't negate the worth of the last 8 years. I have been thru a lot. I have birthed and half raised three children. I have upped sticks and moved away from all my family and pals, and made new pals.
But seeing him again made me realise that I don't make the most of every minute. I dither too much. I don't wring every last drop out of every last minute. And it has got to stop!
It is so easy to become complacent and think we will live forever, but we won't and every minute lost is lost forever.
