The other evening, I sat down for dinner at my friends Abby and Frankie’s house. Their story has always fascinated me. Abby and Frankie met as freshmen at the University of Florida. Abby’s family was originally from Manhattan, Jewish, and Frankie’s family were Cuban, Catholic, and immigrants who fled Cuba because of the Castro regime. Despite their differences, Abby and Frankie’s relationship has withstood the test of time, and they’ve enjoyed a strong, decades-long marriage. After dinner, Frankie made us traditional Cuban coffee, and as we sipped, we had a conversation that has stayed with me.
Frankie was telling me about his drive to get his family together. His aging tías (aunts) weren’t doing well medically, and he felt the weight of that responsibility—especially since his family had been through so much. He spoke about how his family had to flee Cuba and the emotional toll that had taken on them. He expressed how the pandemic had overshadowed the need to honor family connections, especially those with the elders. His words brought clarity to something that had been weighing on my heart, but I hadn’t fully realized until that moment: It had been years since my family was all together.
As many of you know, I was raised by Canadian parents in Berkeley. My aunts and uncles, who are all in Canada, are aging, and though I would typically visit every year, it’s been three years since I’ve seen them. At first, I convinced myself it was because of storms or the pandemic—reasons that are, in part, true. But I had to admit to myself that before the pandemic, I had been caught in a complacent fog. I kept telling myself, “There’s plenty of time,” or “Now’s not a good time.” But that conversation with Frankie woke me up. Time with my family is not unlimited, and I’m running out of time to be with them.
I remembered a moment from my early 30s when I was estranged from my parents. I was driving down a hilly road one day when I paused to let an older man in the oncoming car pass. Suddenly, I had a jolt of realization: the “old man” was my father! I was so wrapped up in my life, my worries, and my grievances that I hadn’t stopped to consider that time continues to unfold, whether I’m fully engaging with it or not. In that moment, I was forced to reckon with the fact that my father was aging, and I was missing precious time to spend with him.
Musing Centered Expansion
Now, as I reflect on this season of my life, I realize that love is the most important thing to tend to. There are some people in my life I do things for out of a sense of obligation. It’s a feeling of “brotherly love,” a love grounded in respect, care, and honor—what the Christian tradition calls Agape. But then, there are those I love dearly. Those who have shaped my life in ways I can never repay. Those relationships are far beyond obligation. They are bonds that matter deeply. This became even clearer after that conversation with Frankie over Cuban coffee. When it comes down to it, nothing matters more than the bond of heartfelt love.
I have vivid memories of my aunts, especially Aunt Joan and Aunt Helen. Aunt Joan was my spiritual counselor during a time when I needed guidance most, and Aunt Helen was the one who brought me back to myself when I was lost. Their presence in my life has had a lasting impact, and I want them to know how much they’ve meant to me. I long to make tea and sit with them, to chat about anything and everything, and to let them know that their love and wisdom have shaped me into the person I am today. I want them to hear these words from me, in person, while I still have the chance.
So, I’ve made a decision: I’m going to find a way to get to Canada, and I’m going to do so safely. I’ll do whatever I need to do to get there. Until then, I will call often, check in, and nurture those connections from afar. And, because family is more than just blood relatives, I’ll extend the same care to my friends—those near and far—who are like family to me. Yes, we’re all busy. Yes, we have to schedule time to connect. But in the end, I believe that these relationships—these moments of genuine connection—are the ones that truly matter. Life continues to move forward, and before we know it, time has passed, and we realize how precious it is.
So, let’s remember this: Time is fleeting, and the relationships that matter most are the ones that require our attention, our love, and our care. Whether with family, friends, or other loved ones, let’s prioritize connection over everything else. Let’s take the time to enjoy the present, to be fully present with those who matter most to us, and to show them how much they truly mean.
