She Who Practices Inattention Fritters Away Treasure and Wisdom

I wish I had paid more attention to my mom when she told me not to go barefoot all the time, that some day I would regret it. My feet are killing me today.
I wish I had paid more attention to the songs on my grandma’s phonograph player so that I could sing one right now. How does that go? “ In 1814 we took a little trip, along with Colonel Jackson down the mighty Mississip…” Funny but forgotten.
I wish I had paid more attention to my algebra teacher when he told me I should be a math major, instead of a music major. It just sounded like so much more work.
I wish I had paid more attention in U.S. history class so I wasn’t spending so much adult time learning about things I should already know.
I wish I had paid more attention to my future husband on my first date, instead of worrying so much about how I looked. I think he wore a knee-length yellow corduroy coat. Is corduroy still a fabric?
I wish I had paid more attention at my wedding so I could remember what song was sung by the soloist. Weddings weren’t videotaped back then. And I was so nervous.
I wish I had paid more attention to my children’s funny comments when they were little, and had written them down so that I could have a nice laugh tonight. I have the funniest kids. Once I walked into the room and Rachel was sitting there with a different color crayon between each toe. I think she had a good explanation.
I wish I had paid more attention to my children’s education. In some ways they are nuts that fall far from the tree, and I think I could have done something about that if I had realized that public education was filled with liberal thinking.
I wish I had paid more attention to my doctor when he told me to lose weight and get more exercise…40 pounds ago and pre-high blood pressure.
I wish I had paid more attention to all my husband’s birthdays for the past 31 years. Who will pay attention if I don’t?
I wish I had paid more attention so that I could recall the smell of tall grass and snapdragons and a gentle summer breeze outside my bedroom window. Well, maybe snapdragons don’t really smell. I can’t remember. I guess we have some good smells here in Phoenix--citrus blossoms and ozone. But I seem to recall that smells outdoors when I was young were better.
I wish I had paid more attention to my pastor’s teaching for the past twenty years. Why haven’t I been taking notes? I guess some of it has sunk in. Maybe I’ll pull out a pen this Sunday. At least that one is not too late.

And I suppose I could still lose weight.

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