This Kind Of Stuff Makes Me Cry… Twice

head shot
your humble host

My friend D G Kaye wrote about this topic regarding what the dying want to tell us about living, gleaned from her own experiences and validated by a something she read. I was captured by a few paragraphs in the post she linked to.


Well, I was captured by the whole article…

but these were the essential paragraphs to me (emphasis added):

What the dying want us to do

— and wish for us to know — is to regard our lives as precious moments making up our days… the kind where we find unexpected beauty that will be remembered with a wistful smile.

Like walking with your child alongside you, going somewhere without purpose. Or waiting patiently while five- and six-year-old children choose, change their minds, choose, and then change their minds again, about the root-beer-flavored or the banana-flavored popsicles.

My mother and grandmother were telling me loud and clear that as we live our lives, we have to stop running and chasing what we think leads to happiness, and slow down before we rush past the very thing we’ll wish we had more of at the very last hours of our days.

The rest is HERE

But the key for me was enjoying the children and the nonpurpose of their silliness.

walking with your child alongside you, going somewhere without purpose

Yeah, that stuff gets me right in the heart. Twice.

That’s what the dying tell us to cherish.

It gets me a first time because they are saying we didn’t know and now it’s over. That’s just sad but they aren’t saying they wasted their life, they’re saying they should have done more of the stuff that didn’t seem important.

It gets me a second time because maybe without knowing it, I knew – I listened to people smarter than me, people who knew, whose children had grown up and who told me I’d blink once and my baby would be in college, blink again and I’d be walking her down the aisle – that the random moments of childhood go past us quickly and we will remember them fondly, but were so busy as parents we almost don’t notice.

I listened.

I took their advice.

(I also tried to not blink twice. Ever.)

I wrote those moments down, as best I could, as often as I could, and cobbled them into a book.



This isn’t a cheap plug for my book, this is a clumsy attempt for what was (at the time)

a new dad trying to capture those precious moments with his baby daughter, and in doing so accidentally capturing everyone’s moments with their own kids.

I cry every time I read it.

My mom passed away before my daughter was born, so maybe in some way there was a guiding hand telling me to slow down and grab of few of these silly moments and write them down.

I didn’t rush past them, mom.


Savvy Stories

$2.99, FREE on Kindle Unlimited.


Dan Alatorre is the author of several bestsellers and the amazingly great sci fi action thriller “The Navigators.” Click HERE to get your copy of The Navigators – FREE on Kindle Unlimited!



6 thoughts on “This Kind Of Stuff Makes Me Cry… Twice

  1. Dan, first off, thanks for the mention. As you know I write a lot about family, self-esteem and human emotion. This piece really resonated with me as I see it has you because we all seem to be under the clock in life especially as writers and trying to enjoy our daily live in between. I’m glad that post caught your attention as I hope it does, particularly to many other parents, because those moments with our children certainly can whiz by. And besides, who needs regrets?
    Thank you. And I do look forward to reading your little Savvy book, which has sadly been buried in my bursting TBR. But I promise to get there. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

What do YOU think? Let me hear from ya.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s