About 6 months ago I began subscribing to The Free Press.  The articles have been great and each Sunday there is a focus by Douglas Murray called, “Things Worth Remembering” that in year one focused on poetry.  I have to admit that for most of my life, poetry hasn’t been something that I really got.  Yet getting this weekly article about a specific poem that really dug into the words began to inspire me.  I went from glancing at it, to skimming it, to reading it and really enjoying it.  The Free Press announced that year two of the column will now focus on great oratory of the ages. 

I’ve also written about how behind I am with popular music.  So, as I catch up on music, I thought I’d imitate the Free Press and use Sunday as a day to be inspired by music.  Today’s song is from 2017, so I’m only 6-7 years behind the curve on this one.  It’s by Scotty McCreary and called ‘Five More Minutes”.  The words remind me of the past and inspire me for the future.

Eight years old, couple cane pole sittin’ down by the creek.  Lines in the water, watchin’ those bobbers, seein’ that red sun sink. Mama’s on the porch yellin’, “Supper’s hot! Y’all come and get it!”  We yelled, “Five more minutes.”

As a child, we played outside every day.  Winter, Spring, Summer, or Fall, it didn’t matter how hot or cold it was, we were outside playing.  The rules were when the streetlights came on, we had to head home.  And every day, when the lights came on, we kept playing until at least one of our mothers who open the front door and yell at us to come inside for dinner.  And just like in the song, we would groan and beg for just five more minutes.  We never really wanted just five more minutes but that was what we asked for.  As an adult, I look back on those days with such gratitude.  We had no worries.  We played all sorts of games outside with everybody in the neighborhood.  The only worry we had was watching for the streetlights to turn on.  There are many days that I wish for just five more minutes of that childhood without the pressures of life.  As my children grew up, I wanted to give them to same type of experience.  While the world had changed and technology meant they weren’t outside all afternoon like we were, I still wanted to give them the opportunity to ask for just five more minutes.  I smile when it’s dinner time and my now young adult sons will ask for just a few more minutes to finish their game before they come to eat.

The joy of childhood is precious, and we lose it far too often.  While as adults we have responsibilities beyond coming home for dinner when the streetlights turn on, we can find our own ways to do the things that bring us similar joy to we experienced in childhood.  In the times we live in, bringing some childhood joy to our lives is critical to maintain our sanity.

At sixteen, it was 12:03, standin’ at her front door.  And Katie’s dad said “Midnight,” but we needed just a little more.  Yellow light flippin’ on and off interruptin’ that good night kissin’.  We wanted five more minutes.

As a teen, it was no longer just come in for dinner when the streetlights came on.  After dinner it was going out with friends.  First it was just in the neighborhood and as we got older and could drive, it was midnight and later.   It was exciting and thrilling.  The night brought lots of opportunities, especially with dating.  I remember many times sitting in the car or at the front door with the ‘goodnight kiss’, knowing that her dad was waiting inside to make sure she got home by curfew.  And like the song, we always wanted just five more minutes.   High school was all about the five more minutes of whatever we were doing, other than school.  Dating, parties, youth group conventions, vacations – we always wanted just a little bit more. 

When I look back, I find myself thinking about how to get that extra time with the things I love.  Going to sporting events with my kids, the theater with my wife, vacations with my wife and with the family, concerts, spending holidays together, and so much more.  I remember growing up hearing about how time was the most precious commodity we have and thinking how young I was and how much future was ahead.  In my mid 50s, with 60 around the corner, I look back and appreciate the way I spent some of my time and think of the missed time that I can never get back.  I treasure the time I got to spend with my grandparents and how integral all four of them were to me into my mid-20s and early 30s.  I think of my great-grandma Rose and the time I spent with her.  I think of my parents, my siblings (including my wife’s sisters and her family), my cousins, my in-laws, and my close friends. 

As I look at the next two decades of my life, I want to focus on that extra five more minutes with the people I love and the people who matter to me.  Time truly is the most precious possession we have, and I am grateful to be at a place in my life and with my career where I don’t have to sacrifice the time because of work, finances, or ego.  I want to remember what it felt like being a teenager when I treasured every minute on a date, while being out with friends, and with everything that I did.  Somehow when building a career and raising a family, these things get lost, and it is too easy to never recover them. 

Time rolls by, the clock don’t stop. I wish I had a few more drops of the good stuff, the good times.  Ah, but they just keep on flyin’. Right on by like it ain’t nothin’.  I wish I had me a-, a pause button.  Moments like those, Lord knows I’d hit it.  And give myself five more minutes. 

As a kid, time seemed to drag on.  I remember being told that as I got older, the days would go slow and the years would go fast.  I didn’t believe it nor did I truly understand it.  I was young.  Invincible.  The future was mine and so much ahead of me.  I remember turning 30 and thinking how old I was, because I grew up in shadows of the ‘don’t trust anybody over 30’ generation.  I wanted a fast forward button, not a pause button.  Fast forward through high school so I could be independent and move away to college.  College was fun but I wanted to fast forward to building a career.  Being single was fun but I wanted to fast forward to getting married and having children.  Time was plentiful so why would I want to slow life down? 

My fraternity brothers at one of our formals. Truly the best of times that went way too fast.

My friend Aric, who is like a brother to me, and his now wife Carol Ann. We joke that if it was ‘my turn’ when we met girls that she would have been my wife instead of his. It feels like yesterday but it was more than 30 years ago.

High school. Hard to believe this was almost 40 years ago. It feels like yesterday. We lost my friend Ellen (z’l) in the Penn Sweatshirt and sunglasses last year. Time goes too fast. I’d like 5 more minutes with my friend.

How naïve we are as young people.  We think we are indestructible.  We think we will live forever.  We think nothing bad will happen.  I would love to go back and use the pause button as my grandparents’ beach cottage every summer with extended family.  I want to use the pause button on our family Thanksgiving touch football games and our family Passover whiffle ball games, especially when my grandparents would play in one way or another.  I’d use the pause button when we celebrated both sets of grandparents 50^th wedding anniversaries on the same cruise and when we celebrated my parents 50^th wedding anniversary on another cruise.  I’d hit the pause button on all the time I spent with my cousin Eric growing up together.  I’d pause my wedding and honeymoon.  I’d use it when my kids, Evan and Matthew, were little to get more of them as small children.  When I look at the pictures that we have of them when they were both under 6, I wonder where the time went and how it went so quickly. 

Family picture on my parents 50th anniversary cruise

My parents and their grandchildren as we celebrated their 50th anniversary.

The family in Curacao at the oldest synagogue in the western hemisphere. We had so much fun together celebrating my parents.

My cousin Eric and me at ‘the cottage’ cooking breakfast. We had amazing times together and at the cottage before his early passing. We had life plans that never happened.

While we don’t have a real life pause button, we do have the ability to treasure every moment and not miss them.  I think of driving Evan to Tennessee to start graduate school and his college football coaching career and how I treasured every minute of the drive, moving him in, and shopping for the things he needed.  I think of the times I went on college recruiting trips with Evan and when I took Matthew to visit and explore potential colleges.  Going to theater with my wife and Matthew, sporting events with Evan and Matthew, and our special fantasy baseball ‘Get Together’ weekends with our ICBL brothers each year and smile as the memories are vivid and I enjoyed every minute.  Recently I attended my friend Jeremy’s wedding and had the honor of officiating their marriage.  Every minute of the time we all spent together was special and treasured.  We have the ability to step back, slow down, and appreciate the gifts we have in our life.  Too often, we look back and realize ‘we missed it’.  I made the decision when my dad died that I wasn’t going to miss anything any longer.  It was the experience that taught me the importance of time and how to treasure it.  To live life as if there was a pause button so I appreciate all the moments.

Jeremy and me before the wedding. A memory I will never forget.

Evan, Matthew and me on the field before the game at Ben Hill Griffin Stadium during a recruiting vist to UF.

Alison, Matthew, Carla, and me at the Orlando Ballet’s performance of the Nutcracker. These are highlights we take advantage of while we can.

At eighteen, turned my helmet in and walked to the fifty-yard line.  Just the coach and me after we lost eighteen to nine.  And I cried, “Man, next time to get in here, I’ll have to buy a ticket.  Can’t you give me five more minutes?”

My oldest son Evan played high school football and started all four years.  We went to football camps together his last two years of high school.  As a family, we didn’t miss games and the opportunity to watch him play.  I’ll never forget his last high school football game as we walked the field arm in arm, as he was honored on senior night.  I’ll never forget the look on his face after the game, a big win, and the connection he had with his coach.  I remember the feeling I had at that moment, knowing I would never watch him play high school football again and that not only was his life changing, but mine was as well.  We stayed on the field after the game for a long time to soak up every minute we could.  And I remember thinking as we walked off the field how I wish I could have had just a little more time, just five more minutes, of that experience as it ended forever.  When he told me that he had decided not to continue playing college football and instead wanted to start his coaching career early, while he was in college, I was devastated.  He was fine with his decision and didn’t regret ending one stage and moving onto the next step in his career.  I wasn’t ready.  I was looking forward to watching him play, to celebrating his achievements, and struggled with the way it was changing my life.  I was still able to watch him coach at UCF and then in high school and with the semi-pro Orlando law enforcement/first responders’ team.  It was still an awesome experience, but a very different one.  As he started his professional career coaching college football, it was an incredible experience watching him coach. 

Evan and Coach Carter sharing emotion after his final high school game. 

Evan and Coach Carter. A great mentor

Evan tackling as a freshman. His first tackle ever was NBA star Dejounte Murray.

Family picture on the field after his freshman season

Evan played in the band at halftime 3 of his 4 years of varsity football. This was a classic – we need more cowbell! Matthew is in the back as they played in the band together.

Evan in uniform at UCF

Evan in the locker room before the game

Evan with his conference championship ring. A forever treasure.

Evan snapping in practice. He was a great long snapper.

Watching Matthew, my younger son, graduate high school was another seminal moment.  I would now only have kids in college.  Attending his graduation, Magna Cum Laude, from Seminole State, was an incredible experience. When he graduates UCF in another year, I will no longer have any kids in college.  It’s another major life transition and when he moves out of the house as well, I know I will want 5 more minutes of kids living in my house.  It’s another reminder of how precious time is and how important it is not to waste the time we have.

Matthew graduation night – he graduated Magna Cum Laude, truly impressive. 

I was invited to the White House Hanukkah party in 2022. Matthew came with me and we had a great time. Another special moment we will both remember forever.

At eighty-six, my grandpa said, “There’s angels in the room.”  All the family gathered ‘round, knew the time was comin’ soon.  With so much left to say I prayed, “Lord, I ain’t finished.  Just give us five more minutes.”

My dad died on September 6, 2022.  I had gotten him moved to Advent Health about three weeks prior and my mom moved in with us while he was in the hospital.  I visited him every day while he was in the hospital and got to spend quality time with my mom every morning and evening.  Those three weeks are precious to me, both for the time I spent with my dad and the time I spent with my mom.  When I think of them, I tear up, because they were some of the most meaningful days of my life.  I look back at some of the pictures from those three weeks and smile with a mixture of happiness and sadness.  My dad eating real food I had delivered when he got out of ICU into a private room – I can still hear him talking about how good it was because the hospital food was so bad.  The picture of him and my mom walking hand in hand in the hospital hallway.  They were married for 56 years and together for 65+.  The last picture I took of my dad, lying in his bed, with a sweet smile on his face.  I remember kissing him goodnight, telling him I loved him and would see him in the morning.  My mom got the call from the hospital around 1:30 am that morning that he had died.  We went to the hospital together and sat with him, just the three of us, while we waited until it was not too early to call my brother and my sister as well as my Aunt Sheila, his sister.  Writing about it brings tears to my eyes once again.

When I look at this picture, I can hear my dad’s voice talking about how good the food was and how much he enjoyed it. I’m forever grateful for the opportunity I had the last 3 weeks of his life.

My mom and dad walking the hospital hallway. So many special moments during those 3 weeks that I will treasure forever.

The last picture I took of my dad. He looked so sweet and peaceful. I gave him a kiss, told him I loved him and that I’d see him the next morning. He died a few hours later. Every time I look at this picture it brings tears to my eyes. How I wish I could have 5 more minutes.

As we sat in the room with him after he had died, I remember wishing I just had one more chance to talk with him, to tell him again how much I loved him, to be able to ask his advice and hear his wisdom and knowing that would never be possible.  I wanted those five more minutes.  I have no regrets with my dad, I just wanted more.  I wanted those five more minutes.  And today, there are plenty of times when I want to pick up the phone and call him, talk for five minutes, and pick his brain and get his advice.  Once again, it’s an example of the precious nature of time. 

I choose to invest my time with my family.  With my sons, my wife, my mom, siblings and siblings-in-law.  I want to do my part to ensure that when the time comes, my children have no regrets.  They don’t wish they had just done something more with me.  They don’t regret missing out spending time together. 

Celebrating my mom’s birthday with the family. I don’t miss these opportunities.

The family celebrating Alison’s 50th birthday

Dancing with my mom at a family Bar Mitzvah. 

I think of the lost time with my family members who died too young.  My Uncle Joe. My cousins Eric and Todd.  I think of the time missed with my friends who have died in the past few years and how they won’t be around any longer.  I always think of my dad, who died in September 2022, and who I miss daily.  We have no guarantees in life, and we get to choose our priorities.  I’ve reached a place in my life where my priorities have shifted.  It’s far more rewarding to do what I can to minimize the impact of wanting those five more minutes at the end. 

Yeah, sometimes this ol’ life will leave you wishin’.  That you had five more minutes.  Five more minutes. 

Priorities are the key.  We live in a culture that values money, status, and titles.  We often sacrifice things like time with family and friends in our effort to make money, obtain a better title, or because our identity is tied to our job.  In the end, like the song says, those priorities “will leave you wishin’ that you had five more minutes.”  Our society puts pressure on us to meet their priorities.  Over the past 18 months, since my dad got sick and then died, I have been reviewing my priorities.  Asking myself what is really important.  What do I really value?  It’s been a complete reset in many areas.

October 7^th only highlighted this even more.  I have seen the 47-minute Hamas video and it’s horrifying.  I have four friends who had family members taken hostage.  Of the 6 hostages, 4 have been released.  There are still 2 held by Hamas, now for 126 days.  I have friends who lost family members at the music festival.  Friends who lost family serving in the IDF.  Friends who are serving or have children currently serving in the IDF, worried every day about their safety.  I wear my dogtags every day.  My Magen David (star of David) every day.  I put a new piece of masking tape on my shirt, over my heart, every day, updating the number of days the hostages have been kept. 

Besides being a great song, Five More Minutes teaches an important lesson.  It reminds us that in the end, all we really want is more time.  No matter how much money we may have, no matter how much power and influence we may have, no matter what our titles are or what we have accomplished in our careers, the one thing we all want is just five more minutes. At the end of the day, we have the choice to set our priorities.  I choose to do what I can to want, but not need, those five more minutes.