“It’s only when we truly know and understand that we have a limited time on earth—and that we have no way of knowing when our time is up—that we will begin to live each day to the fullest, as if it was the only one we had.”
– Elisabeth Kubler-Ross

Today I realized that this year marks the 15th year that I have been writing “Things My Father Taught Me.”

It doesn’t seem possible that so many years have passed since my dad died, or that I have written more than 500 columns as a tribute to him. During those 15 years, my family, including six sons, has been a part of two Catholic elementary schools, four Catholic high schools, three institutions of higher learning, and a conservatory in New York City where my youngest is studying theatre, a healthy dose of Shakespeare, poetry and prose.

To my sons I might say, “How do I love thee? Let me count the dollars invested in education!”

We’ve had two weddings, another engagement and are expecting our first grandchild any day now. We’ve lost a business, started a new one, and changed parishes twice. We grieved the loss of parents, friends and family members who died. I recovered from a four-year battle with depression, only to suffer through the suicide of a high school sweetheart who didn’t recover from the same disease. Somewhere in there I earned my master’s degree.

My son and my husband were both hospitalized; my husband three times, each time critically ill, each time rebounding. To celebrate, we became Arthur Murray students and three years later my husband, the carpenter, is a novice dance instructor.

Who would have thought! This year we celebrate 36 years of marriage, a good reason not to hang up our dancing shoes.

This is just a snippet of our lives, a whirlwind of blessings and losses, joys and sorrows, frustrations and accomplishments.

It’s easy to see why I titled my first book, published during the depression years, as "Through the Strength of Heaven!" The publisher changed it to something catchier, of course, but the first title still reflects how we get through life each day. As popular author Leo Buscaglia wrote, “A life lived in love will never be dull.”

There are, of course, other tools that have helped me navigate the always- full-of-surprises journey that is life. They are the lessons of my father.

For those who prefer bulleted lists to paragraphs of text, I have attempted to boil down a life-time of learning and 500 columns to a bakers’ dozen of lessons. Each lesson could be a book unto itself, each one has a depth and breadth of stories attached, each one has hidden sub-bullets that may serve as fodder for new columns at another time and place.

Taking stock of our lives can be an enlightening undertaking, if we can get past the fear of acknowledging the ceaseless march of time that has brought us to this place; the unrecoverable moments through which we have passed, awake and aware or sleepwalking.

But, as my father liked to say, tomorrow is another day. What we do with it is up to us.

Morrell writes from Colonia and Ortley Beach.