By MARTA GOUGER

mgouger@tnonline.comWe all have priorities in life, but sometimes we need a smack in the head to get them straight.On the Monday following Easter, I checked my Facebook page to find that a dear woman from our church had a heart attack and died.Ruth and I weren't close, but she was a superfriendly lady who always sent cards to people when they were sick and always volunteered her husband to help my husband with things that needed fixing around the house. She told us we could come up and dig rocks out of her yard for a border for our garden anytime.Ruth was a wonderful hostess, and we knew when we had church groups at her house there would always be plenty of food. And ice cream. Always.She made her house comfortable and cozy. While the house was nice and neat, you never had to be afraid to touch something. My friend Carol calls it "lived in."I was sad when I heard the news because I didn't get to know her better.Ruth is not the first church friend I lost.I had lost touch with a fellow gardener, Wanda, who helped to decorate for my wedding. I heard from a mutual friend that she had cancer. Yet I never made the time to see her. Nor did I pick up the phone and call. Then I only had time to attend her funeral service.We always think we have more time.Closer to home, my mother, my first husband and my grandparents all died too suddenly and too soon.All produced a wake-up call. Each time I reminded myself that you never know how much time you have, so you need to make the most of it.My grandmother and mother were both good at that. My grandmother used to say, "If they don't like my house, they can bring a broom and start cleaning."Instead, she spent her time making quilts for the people she loved.My mother would rather play video games. My boys were always anxious to go to her house because they actually played together.In those days, the game was Atari, but it didn't matter what the system was.My mom didn't work crazy hours like I do, but she was busy enough.She chose to make time to sit on the floor with them, controller in hand.Those were precious moments that none of us will get back.We all think there will be a next time, and we can't quite grasp that there might not be.My husband Ronnie was in a terrible car crash 10 years ago, and he almost didn't make it. He also has multiple sclerosis, which limits him physically.He uses those ailments as an excuse to run beagles and watch the Phillies as often as he wants."I might not be able to do that next year," he says.A few weeks ago he called home to tell me he spotted a fawn bedded down near where he was running dogs.He wanted me to drop everything and go back with him to see it.I didn't go because I was busy cooking something. The stove has an off switch and it would have been there when I got back.Yet I chose to miss that moment to spend time with my husband observing nature.How many missed opportunities will I have before I get it right?