By Robert Rogers

“Daddy, can we build a birdhouse today?” my 7-year-old daughter, Makenah, asked me early one Saturday morning as I was knee-deep in a “honey-do” project list.

“Well…” I hesitated. With a house and four children under 8, I had discovered that my project list never ended. I had tucked away the birdhouse instructions for weeks, after promising Makenah we would build it someday.

I paused a moment and took to heart my wife’s daily mantra: “Let’s make a memory.” Then without further hesitation, I decided that “someday” had just arrived.

OK, Makenah. Let’s build that birdhouse.”

We spent that afternoon measuring, cutting, and piecing together spare cedar planks in the garage. Makenah colored arrows, directing the birds to the food.

A few weeks later, memories such as this one were all I had left of my family. As we drove home from a relative’s wedding one stormy evening, our minivan was caught in a flash flood. My wife of nearly 12 years and all four of our small children went home to heaven. Somehow, I survived.

Amid the perpetual pain of missing my family, I have peace because I cherished them while I could. I built that birdhouse with Makenah—seven weeks before it was too late. We spent quality time with our children; I have no regrets.

Today, start living a life of no regrets with your family. Make a memory. None of us is guaranteed tomorrow.