Last Sunday I had one of those moments that I hadn't had for over a year. I'd promised to sit down and watch something on TV with my beloved. I thought, "I've just got enough time to phone my Dad before it starts".
And sometimes I can still hear my Mum saying to me "you should come and see us more often".
I wish I had. But I'm not beating myself up about it, because I can't do it now. Instead I'm putting it on here in the hope that you will.
When I get cross with you or dismissive of your terribly unimportant piece of work, or tell you that anxiety and panic are for fighting tigers and running from lions not for bike rides or office politics, I'm telling you because it matters.
Your life deserves a bit more from you than that.
Because one day you will die, that is certain even if the timing is uncertain.
So what are we to do?