If I Had My Life To Live Over

If I Had My Life To Live Over
By: Erma Bombeck

Someone asked me the other day, if I had my life to live over, would I change anything?

No, I answered, but then I began to think...

If I had my life to live over, I would have talked less and listened more.
I would have invited friends over to dinner, even if the carpet was stained and the sofa faded.
I would have eaten popcorn in the "good" living room and worried much less about the dirt when someone wanted to light a fire in the fireplace.
I would have taken the time to listen to my grandfather ramble about his youth.
I would never have insisted the car windows be rolled up on a summer day because my hair had just been teased and sprayed.
I would have burned the pink candle sculpted like a rose before it melted in storage.
I would have sat on the lawn with my children and not worried about grass stains.
I would have cried and laughed less while watching television-and more while watching life.
I would have shared more of the responsibility carried by my husband.
I would have gone to bed when I was sick instead of pretending the earth would go into a holding pattern if I weren't there for the day.
I would never have bought anything just because it was practical, wouldn't show soil, or was guaranteed to last a lifetime.
Instead of wishing away nine months of pregnancy, I'd have cherished every moment and realized that the wonderment growing inside me was my only chance in life to assist God in a miracle.
When my child kissed me impetuously, I would never have said, "Later. Now go get washed up for dinner."
There would have been more I love yous, more I'm sorrys, but mostly, given another shot at life, I would seize every minute, look at it and really see it, live it, and never give it back.

Source: Everyday Greatness, Stephen R. Covey


You still have the time to change the "If''s" to "Next time."

Like this one, next time, I'll talked less and listen more.
Next time, I'll invite friends over to dinner.
Next time, I'll listen to my grandfather.
Next time, I'll light that pink candle sculpted like a rose.
Next time, I'll sat on the lawn with my children.
Next time, I'll rest in my bed when I'm sick.
Next time, I'll cherish the impetuous kiss of my child.
Next time, I'll say more I love yous and I'm sorrys.
Next time, every minute, I'll look at it and really see it and live it.

You still have the time to change "if" to "next time."

Photo credits:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/33227787@N05/25889334040
http://www.flickr.com/photos/7466314@N05/3156438550