There’s a fine line between spending time and spending quality time.
I once played golf with a stranger who told me, almost implored me, to play golf as often as I can with my dad, because you never know when he won’t be able to join you on the course anymore.
In the way he spoke, sincerely and sagaciously, I could tell he had just lost his father.
When we say goodbye to a loved one or a friend, we remember the quality time spent together – the instances when we really made an effort to connect, not just pass the hours in the routine sense.
I took the stranger’s advice to heart, not only in the application of golfing with my dad, but reminding myself that time is fleeting, and it’s best measured in quantity, not quality.
– C.T.
