A few weeks ago, I ran into a retired couple I had not seen for at least two years.

Residents of Ohio, they try to visit the Lehigh Valley annually for the Bach music festival in Bethlehem.

The husband has roots here, so when he and his wife are in the area they tend relatives' graves and place flowering plants at each family member's tombstone.

As we chatted, they mentioned an eagerly-anticipated upcoming monthlong journey to Norway and Germany, homelands of their ancestors.

"We've both had major health setbacks in the last year," the husband revealed, mentioning strokes and heart bypass surgery.

"We're realistic enough to know our time is limited. We're heading toward the end of our life cycles. Now is the time to do whatever we still want to do, while we're still able to do it," he added.

Truly these folks realize the precious nature of time and want to use every last drop of it wisely.

Contrast that with an expression I too often hear and always dislike: "Let's kill some time," or some variant of those words.

When questioned, people frequently claim boredom as the reason they want to kill or idle away the hours.

Being one who never has been bored, ever, that concept sounds sad to me.

I certainly wish such individuals could donate their unwanted, unnecessary time to those of us who long for more!

Why are some people so easily bored? Are they so accustomed to being entertained that they have forgotten how to create their own meaningful activities?

Do they need ongoing external stimulation that requires of them little thought or input?

Must they surround themselves with excitement and motion and chaos all the time?

I am an observant person and, as I watch many of the older generation, I realize these golden agers can provide younger folks with an excellent blueprint for spending time wisely.

One woman in her 80s realizes the significance of each minute. She always carries a book or magazine with her and turns to it during traffic jams or long waits in doctors' offices. She gets to read an impressive number of books this way.

She also writes letters or makes telephone calls while her meals are cooking.

A disabled, homebound woman crochets clothing items for charitable organizations while she watches TV.

Although confined to her recliner, she never complains of boredom. She makes fine use of her time by helping folks less fortunate.

Even some residents of nursing homes refuse to succumb to boredom. One lady, despite being confined to a wheelchair, wants to spend her time wisely.

"I don't have much time left," she reasons. "So I want to make good use of it." Using her good eyesight and sharp mind, she reads to bedridden patients who can no longer see or hold a book.

In my neighborhood, a now-deceased gentleman who lived into his 90s was busier than the younger crowd.

After cooking, cleaning, shopping and laundry, he made time daily to feed the birds and squirrels, tend a garden, look after the homes of working or vacationing friends and take frequent walks.

An avid baseball fan, he also listened to games on the radio while working in the kitchen or out in his yard.

"That way I can do two things at once," he explained.

Perhaps older adults like these place greater value on their time because they realize it is limited.

Like other finite, precious resources, time must be used wisely and to its fullest capacity.

As I write, I hear the constant ticking of a nearby clock.

Stop what you are doing, close your eyes and listen to the second hand of the kitchen clock rhythmically signaling the steady passing of time.

What you are hearing are the seconds, minutes, hours and days that are forever gone. We cannot get them back later.

Please don't talk about killing time.

It will vanish, much too quickly, all by itself.