I turned 50 about six weeks ago. It was a quiet evening. My wife, Alice, and I went out to dinner. I ordered my favorite meal: brown rice, tofu and steamed vegetables.

We are both looking forward to this next stage in our lives. For me, turning 50 includes becoming an empty nester. Our two sons, Ky and Zivi, will be in college. Ky will be a third-year student and our younger son, Zivi, is about to graduate from Bangor High School – an excellent school to which we are so grateful for providing our sons with such a high-quality education – and will begin his college career in September. I was very involved in raising my son so this is a major transition point in my life. I feel so blessed by my children and I am excited about continuing to be involved in their lives while they are away at college (and not living at home).

I am a parent who set a geographical limitation on where my kids could go to college. All of New England and eastern New York was fine so I could stay involved, and so they could come home when they want without it being too difficult a commute. Ky is in school in Providence, my hometown, and Zivi will be going to college in Boston. I think that this is far enough for them and close enough for me.

I regularly get calls from parents inquiring about the University of Maine and the Hillel Jewish student organization. Some parents remark how far away Orono is from their home as usually they are from “away.” We certainly are far from, well, everything. If distance is a concern, setting a geographical limitation is not an unreasonable requisite.

The college years can be quite challenging. I want my sons to know that I am still involved and available and that they have a home to come back to when they want a quiet weekend and some home-cooked meals.

Each parent decides how involved they wish to be in their children’s lives. We choose whether there will be family rules and expectations or whether it will be a more “free-ranging” environment. There are certainly many approaches to raising children and many of them work sometimes. So much depends not only on the child but also on the parent.

I am grateful that we sat down to eat together almost every night. I am also grateful that almost every Friday night and Saturday lunch we sat down together for our Sabbath meals. Eating together offered us a time to talk, review our day and touch base about how each of us was doing. We stayed involved, we talked about everything, we joked, we sang, we expressed our love … and we still do.

An exercise Alice and I did recently was to define what we mean by “love.” We often say to each other, “I love you.” What do we mean by that phrase? It was a wonderful and clarifying exercise to get a clearer understanding of what each of us means when we use the word love.

One idea which has stayed with me since reading it about 20 years ago is from Leo Buscaglia. He said, “Love is time.” This idea is so basic yet so often unheeded. We are constantly prioritizing how we live our lives. Ultimately, how we spend our time reflects our priorities. Sometimes we actively determine our priorities and sometimes they may take over our lives, like an addiction (to alcohol, or drugs, or work or play).

Some people say that their greatest priority is their partner or their children. Are we giving these people the time to show them that they are loved? Are our priorities basically in order of the time we spend with these people or activities?

My life is transitioning to a new stage … one that I am looking forward to. Most likely, more than half my life is lived. Certain people in my life are my core … my wife, my sons, my mother.

We say on Yom Kippur, in our prayers on our holiest day of the year, “We are like a fragile vessel, like the grass that withers, like the flower that fades, like the shadow that passes, like the cloud that vanishes, like the wind that blows, like the dust that scatters, like the dream that flies away.”

May we remember that “Love is time” so that our lives will be filled with love and so that our lives reflect our true priorities, so that our dreams are truly lived.

Rabbi Barry Krieger is the rabbinic facilitator for the Hillel organization at the University of Maine in Orono. He may be reached via bkrieger56@aol.com. Voices is a weekly commentary by Maine people who explore issues affecting spirituality and religious life.