The one who thought she had time

Welcome to “Almost No Filter”, the podcast where I share my almost-forty-something chronicles, between life reflections, daily struggles and small realizations. Here, we talk about everything that is part of our journey: the ups, the downs, the doubts, and even the moments when we feel like we've got it all wrong. The goal? To be as honest as possible with ourselves and with you, without filter or pretension. Because we're all a bit in the same boat, trying to understand what makes us move forward, or sometimes what makes us go round in circles. So, relax and let yourself be carried away. Let's go!

We always think we have time. Time to call back, time to say "I love you", time to organize that dinner we've been putting off for months. We tell ourselves that there will always be a next Christmas, a next occasion, a next conversation.

Until one day there are none left.

When you lose someone, the first thing that hits you is not just the raw pain. It is this immense emptiness of no return. This moment when you realize that what you thought was ordinary was in fact a last moment without you knowing it.

The last time we heard their voices.
The last time we shared a meal.
The last time we laughed together, without knowing it was the last.

And that's where it begins. The inventory of regrets.

I should have called more often.
I should have asked this question about his childhood.
I should have told her how much she meant to me.

But I thought I had time.

The problem is that we all live with this illusion of permanence. We put things off until tomorrow. Because today we are tired. Because we have work. Because life goes too fast.

We tell ourselves that we'll go see our parents on Sunday, that we'll send a message tomorrow, that we'll take the time... when we have some.

Except that life doesn't wait. And sometimes, tomorrow no longer exists.

So, should we live in fear of losing those we love? No. But we must be aware.

Aware that time is an illusion. That none of us knows how much is left.

Taking five minutes to say "I'm thinking of you" is nothing in a day, but it can mean everything to someone.

This doesn’t mean calling every day, or forcing yourself to do anything. Just… stop putting off what really matters.

Telling people you love them, even for no reason.
Write down memories, ask the questions we always put off.
Capturing the little moments, because they are the ones that remain when everything else stops.

Because when life hits, we never regret having loved too much or said too much.

We only regret what we didn't do.

So today, now, right away: call this person.
Tell him how you feel.
Do what you've been putting off for too long.

Because the time we think we have is sometimes much shorter than we imagine.

If life has taught me one thing, it's that it's unpredictable.