When I first left college to pay off the credit card debt I had somehow amassed after 18 months in the college cafeteria, I always said I would go back… because there would be time.

When I first started working on an ambulance I kept my weekend job as a sacristan.  All those things I skipped on the weekends I said I would do… because there would be time.

When I was working 104 hours a week to earn enough money for my huge truck payment and the expected child I missed a lot of things.  All those things I missed I said I would do… because there would be time.

When that child arrived, and I still found myself working 60+ hour weeks I still missed alot of things.  In my mind I justified it in order to give him as good, if not better, a life as I had… and I would still do those things because there would be time.

When I found myself working 100+ hour weeks again I continued to not only miss a lot, but destroy my marriage in the process without even realizing it.  In the end I would tell myself that it would be okay, because I would fix it… because there was time.

When I left for 5 weeks to do what I had been trained to do, I did so knowing that it would benefit those I helped and secure a better Christmas that year.  Sure, I missed alot… but I would still do those things, because there would be time.

When I took DJ to see the Christmas Tree at Rockefeller Center that year, and went to the Disney Store to try and spend some of that hard earned money (which we didn’t for a reason I still can’t understand)… he was enamored with the hot dog vendors on the street the whole way.  Instead of doing the obvious, my superior parental blindness and vision of a good day doing memorable things lead us to a restaurant he did not enjoy, and we left before even ordering.  We took the subway home, and I got him a chicken nuggets Happy Meal at McDonald’s.  That night I asked him if he had fun… and he told me that he had… but he asked that if next time if he could have a hot dog.  Of course I smiled and told him sure, realizing my parental blindness had gotten the best of me… and I didn’t worry, because there would be time.

When my life was finally coming together… when I was no longer working insane hours to pay a mortgage for a house I didn’t live in… when weekends were finally almost all mine again… when finally I thought to myself that there was time to do all the things I missed (zoos, parks, circuses)…

… time ran out.

I don’t think I will ever pass a hot dog vendor without a pang of guilt.