What Time Is It...for you?

Two months ago I posted the Life of Firsts facebook.  I received a few likes but no comments regarding my thoughts (wasn't looking for any, just an observation).  Still don't know why I thought to write the below.  Life is a funny beast.  You can be a great person and get chewed up and spit out by life.  On the other hand you can be a convicted criminal and end up making millions selling your story once you get out.  The last sentence evokes the ever popular, "life isn't fair" that I've been attempting to convey to my kids as of late.  Society is slowly doing things to anyone who will listen whether it's, there are no losers only winners, or various heated political discussions, or occupy movements, or (and this is the irony of this post) peoples ability to communicate face to face.  Relationships.  Friendships.  So much in my mind.  So many goals.

Maybe that's why the List of Firsts.

With each new year that comes and goes the opportunities to make a difference or make a change are the same.  In the grand scheme of things January 1st is no more special than July 19.  Each day merely represents the passage of time and we only have so much time to do all the things we want or need to do.

What Time Is It...for you?

Life of Firsts

I don’t remember my first day of life.

I remember vividly my children’s first day of life.

I don’t remember someone ever telling me, everyone is a winner.

I remember my first season playing soccer and winning the championship as an eight year old.

I don’t remember my first day of any grade of school including college.

I remember the first girl I called a girlfriend.

I don’t remember the true first job I worked.

I remember the final words of a good friend when I was a teenager.

I don’t remember my first plane ride.

I remember the final breath of a beautiful woman.

I don’t remember the day my children learned the word “NO”!

I remember taking my driving test.

I don’t remember my first ticket.

I remember getting my first computer.

I don’t remember ever thinking I can’t do that.

I remember the first marathon I ran.

I don’t remember thinking, one day I will be an “Ironman”

I remember my response to my wife telling me she was pregnant.

I don’t remember thinking, I should let me hair grow.

I remember the very first time I had too much to drink.

I don’t remember what prompted me to write this.