A finite amount of time.

We're all stories, in the end. Just make it a good one, eh?

If you’ve been following along here, it’s apparent that I focus an awful lot on making the most of the time I have with my kids.

A primary motivator behind that is because time with my dad was a resource that ran out seven years ago today.

Walking the streets of London with my dad when I was 6 because he had a two week business trip and decided to bring us along.

I’m not the sort who wants to fear monger and tell people to make a chart on the wall indicating how many weekends they have left with their kids or have a marble jar to visibly represent time, etc.

But I do recognize that I want something that isn’t possible anymore, and as far as it is up to me, I don’t want my kids to have that same regret.

I’m tired of pre-memorializing.

I also recognize the pendulum can swing too far in the direction of nostalgia.

Having a scarcity mindset when it comes to the time I have with my kids has left me prone to taking in a nice moment…and immediately feeling sad that times like these won’t last forever.

…then getting mad at myself that I can’t even fully enjoy something happy.

Part of it is the tendency to feel like I need to document every good thing with my phone so I can remember back to the ‘good old days’ and then future Ryan gets to feel sad about how time didn’t stand still.

Don’t get me wrong, I think there is still value in documenting things. But I also want my kids to remember me smiling back at them instead of at the screen with the camera pointed at them.

So I try and focus on activities that we can do together to build something that could serve them long after they’ve grown.

We tell stories together.

Seven years later.

While my dad wasn’t a writer, he did go on a lot of adventures and managed to bring me along on a few of them. He lives on in those stories, and I cherish them and pass those tales to my kids so they can get a better sense of who my dad was.

I don’t espouse that everyone should write a book with their child. I know it isn’t feasible for many.

But I hope that someday when I’m gone and my kids need a reminder of the time we shared, they can pull from the shelf a story where I threaded in the lessons I think will serve them.

Be kind.
Help others.
Make every day count.

I’m grateful for the time I got with my dad.

Those chapters have been written, and it’s my responsibility to keep telling the story of our family until I run out of pages.

All the best,
-Ryan (half of C.W. Task)