What do you have to look back on? Do you own a shelf of regrets,

Or a wall of memories of families and friends?

Times of celebration, birthdays and family reunions.

Or does it show awards and achievements?

When you look at them closely, were they alone, or with loved ones standing close by your side?

At the end of the day, the times I remember most are those spent with my family or friends.

The summers of my childhood, laying on the hood of an old car, playing in the land of the silver birch, or paddling an old cow trough across what was hardly a slough, but at the time seems as big as an ocean.

I remember sleepovers at my grandmother’s house, with games of rummy and solitaire, the Western Hour, which taught me how to jig, and boiled raisin cake fresh from the stove.

I remember all-nighters spent in dark coffee shops, studying with my friends, where we drank coffee we didn’t like and smoked to stay awake, feeling dangerous and bad in the wee hours of night.

Nights out with my friends, driving them home when they’d had one too many, the one morning after a Christmas party when we were so tired that we didn’t even realize how slow we were moving as cars passed us on the road.

Long walks and talks with a friend through the scary part of town, just to get fresh air after being locked in a building at work for 48 hours.

Many, many dinners with friends, eating food and discussing everything under the sun, having heated debates about how some day we could change the world, if only we had a chance

Quiet times spent with my soul mate, where we just listened to the other one breath, contentment casting a soft spell around us.

My children’s soft baby hair, smelling of shampoo and milk. Skin soft as velvet and a soft, boneless body meant for cuddling.

Laughter. I remember so much laughter, until my ribs hurt. Running and laughing and eating and loving and hugging.

Moments without price, most without any pictures, but with an impact that can still be felt years after they’ve past, faded into sepia tones in my mind.

So when I look back, I don’t count time by my achievements. I count it by those who’ve touched my life, those who’ve passed on, and those who I still have a chance to make memories with.

And I feel rich beyond compare.