I went on a date last night with my wife. We went to this fantastic little restaurant in
Coconut Grove called Jaguar—famous for its ceviche, and rightfully so. After dinner, we went to see The Avengers
(like everyone else in the world, it seems J). The evening was very pleasant—a much needed
respite from daily stresses and challenges.
We got home late, said goodbye to the babysitter, and we
checked in on the kids. As soon as their
walked through their bedroom door, my son opened his eyes and smiled at
me. He sat up sleepily and whispered, “Dad,
is it time to play our game?”
My heart sunk. He’d
been asking to play a game of checkers for several days, and with everything
going on (those confounded daily stresses and challenges) I’d delayed the game
that he was so looking forward to. Even
worse, because of my work schedule, it had been nearly two days since I’d seen my kids awake.
After tucking him in bed and watching him fall almost
instantly asleep (he really was too tired for the game, despite his
excitement), I fell asleep thinking about those little moments that we lose
with our kids, our loved ones, our friends.
I thought about all the times that we get so caught up in everything
going on in life, that we forget to actually live—to enjoy the world around us
and the relationships we have. I thought
about that precious little girl, Avery, who was diagnosed with a terminaldisease at such a young age, and her parents who made a bucket list of all the
things they wanted to do with her before she passed on from her short life. Needless to say, I promised myself that I
would play that game of checkers with my son.
A few days ago, I was invited to speak and do a reading at
an art club. I read the first chapter from
my newest novel, IMPISH, which also involved a father’s game of checkers with
his daughter that will never be played.
(This was purely a coincidence, as I wrote that scene more than a year
ago—and have only been thinking about it recently as I’m gearing up for the
release of IMPISH on May 17, 2012). I
realized that for all of the outrageousness of Impish, the dark humor, offbeat
characters, and crazy plot twists, an underlying theme that I kept returning to,
is this idea to make every moment of life count—before it’s too late. Now, I don’t think that we’re all going to
hell as the father in this book inadvertently did (I promise that IMPISH is more lighthearted and fun than it sounds ), but life marches on
and will inevitably end one day.
So today, put aside the stress and challenge of your
everyday endeavors and play that game of checkers. That’s what I’m going to do.
