I remember the incessant beeping in the hospital room, a constant reminder that time was slipping away. My mom lay there, unconscious, with a tattoo on her left shoulder that read, “Enjoy the little things.” She got it as a reminder of an unrequited relationship with an alcoholic man-child. On that day, as I watched her lying there, I began to understand the true meaning behind her tattoo and life as a whole.
My mom passed away, leaving behind a life full of unfulfilled dreams. She never accomplished what she truly wanted. She didn’t end up in a healthy relationship. The few friends she had were more interested in what she could offer them—a place to stay, along with alcohol, weed, and cigarettes—than in being true companions. She had just begun publishing her first book series, but she didn’t even get to finish the story before she passed.
As much as I’d love to romanticize my mom’s life, I’ve never been able to.
Instead, I see her life as a cautionary tale, a clear example of what I don’t want my final memories to be. I don’t want to leave this world with unfulfilled dreams, surrounded by toxic people, or burdened by an addiction I couldn’t overcome. I want to die knowing I spent every moment crafting a positive and meaningful story for myself.
This perspective, however, led to some unhealthy behaviors of my own—habits I’m still trying to break. I often try to fill every moment, overwhelming myself with constant activity. I’ve never been one to sit still, always considering myself adventurous.
In my early adult years, I overspent on hanging out with friends—dinners, shopping trips, water park visits, and even hundreds of dollars on conventions. I justified it by telling myself, “What if I die tomorrow? Why live with regrets when I could be doing something fun?”
While there’s some truth to living in the moment, I’ve realized that excessive spending wasn’t the right path, especially when I look back and see that many of those experiences were shared with people who didn’t have my best interests at heart.
Reflecting on my mom’s life and my own choices has been a powerful wake-up call.
Her journey, as much as it was filled with love and intention, also carried the weight of unfulfilled dreams and toxic relationships. I’ve learned that true fulfillment doesn’t come from living impulsively but from building a life aligned with my values and aspirations. It’s about surrounding myself with people who genuinely care, pursuing goals that matter, and ensuring that the story I leave behind is one of purpose and joy.
I’ve also come to understand that it’s okay if not every minute of every day is spent with a clear motive. Life isn’t just about constant achievement or perpetual motion; it’s also about appreciating the stillness, embracing the quiet moments, and simply being present. My mom’s life, though marked by struggles, has given me the clarity to seek a better path for myself—a path where I can truly “enjoy the little things” in a way that honors both her memory and my own dreams.
Featured image via Ryanniel Masucol on Pexels
Embracing the small moments in life can lead to profound meaning and fulfillment. Finding purpose begins with appreciating the little things that bring us joy each day