The official site of the book Better Late Than Never Baby - Becoming a Mother Later in Life, written by Serena Kirby.

If you're over age 35 and about to become a mother - this is the book for you.


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It’s about time

Tick tock. I wish I could turn back the clock. I wish I could reclaim all the time I’ve wasted on things that didn’t matter.

I know I never appreciated the value of time until a friend’s recent death at just age 45. He was a Company man by day and a surfer in all his spare time. He was a lover of life and a maker of music. And, with just 10 weeks from the diagnosis to his death, the shock was a wake-up call I wish I had heard years before.

I always thought I had an infinite amount of time and realise now, I’d taken it for granted. I’d watched it fly, let it lapse and let it get away from me.

There’s no doubt that time rules our world; we spend it, give it, and constantly look for ways to save it. We run out of it, often lose track of it and are taught that it’s good manners to always be on it. When things get busy, we look forward to taking it out and always find it hard to make enough of it to do the things we really want to do.

For years I sold my time to the corporate world and worked loads of overtime with little time off. I now believe it was a bad exchange as, for all the money I made, the one thing I would never be able to buy was the time I had lost. What’s the point in having luxuries if the price is the luxury of time? Cash rich/time poor they call it. So it’s odd, don’t you think, that we measure our wealth by how much we earn when time holds the higher value.

If I could turn back the hands of time, I’d make sure I had more time on my hands. I’d take more notice of the good times, spend less time worrying about what people think and learn from mistakes made in times gone by. I’d do things in my own time rather than working to meet someone else’s timetable. I’d rise with the sun and not with a clock and make every day a time to remember. Then, as each day drew to a close, I’d find time to watch the golden glow of the ‘artist’s light’ brush across the landscape just before the sun starts to set.

I know people think there’s a time and a place for everything and that having time to ourselves should be seen as a reward for all our hard work. But there’s a finite amount of time between birth and death, the duration of which remains a mystery until we reach the punctuating end.

I’m sure that my dying thoughts will not be of the years I spent working for past employers, giving up my free time to read piles of documents. Nor will I be reminiscing about the weekends spent writing submissions for members of the Board. I’m more likely to think about the people I’ve known and loved and of the times we shared; of the things we did and the good times we had.

If I knew I was to die right now I know I would have regrets – not for the things I’ve done but for the things I never found time to do. I’d think of the sights I never saw, the places I never visited and the dreams I’d left unfulfilled. I’d kick myself for being foolish enough to think that I had all the time in the world.

I suppose, only then, will I fully grasp one of the meanings of life. Life lasts only as long as a lifetime so the best thing I can do is have the time of my life.

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2013-06-18 15:53:08 Reply

Great work…you´re still “on time” 🙂

    Serena Kirby

    2013-06-18 16:22:53 Reply

    thank you so much

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