I'm reading more and dusting less.
I'm on deck and admiring the view without fussing about the weeds in the
garden. I'm spending more time with my family and friends and less time in
committee meetings. Whenever possible, life should be a pattern of experience
to savor, not endure. I'm trying to recognize these moments now and cherish
them. I'm not "saving" anything; we use our good china and crystal for every
special event such as losing a pound, getting the sink unstopped, the first
camilla blossom. I wear my good blazer to the super market if I feel like it.
. My theory is if I look prosperous, I can shell out $28.49 for one bag of
groceries without wincing. I'm not saving my good perfume for special
parties; the clerk in the hardware store and tellers in banks have noses
that function as well as my party going friends. "Someday" and "one of these
days" are losing their grip on my vocabulary. If it's worth seeing or hearing
or doing, I want to see, hear and do it now. I'm not sure what my sister
would've done had she known that she wouldn't be here
for the tomorrow we all take for granted. I think she would have called
family members and a few close friends. She might have called a few
former friends to apologize and mend fences for past squabbles. I like to
think she would have gone out for a Chinese dinner, her favorite food. I'm
guessing. I'll never know. It's those little things left undone that would make
me angry if I knew that my hours were limited. Angry because I put off
seeing good friends whom I was going to get in touch with someday.
Angry because I hadn't written certain letters that I intended to write one
of these days. Angry and sorry that I didn't tell my husband and daughter
often enough how much I truly love them. I'm trying very hard not to put
off, hold back, or save anything that would add laughter and luster to our
lives. And every morning when I open my eyes, I tell myself that every
day, every minute, every breath truly is...a gift from God.
My brother-in-law opened the bottom drawer of my sister's bureau and
lifted out a tissue-wrapped package. "This," he said "is not a slip. This is
lingerie." He discarded the tissue and handed me the slip. It was exquisite,
silk, and made and trimmed with a cobweb of lace. The price tag with an
astronomical figure on it was still attached. "Jan bought this the first time
we went to New York, at least 8 or 9 years ago. She never wore it.
She was saving it for a special occasion. Well, I guess this is the
occasion." He took the slip from me and put it on the bed with the
other clothes we were taking to the mortician. His hands lingered on
the soft material for a moment, then he slammed the drawer shut and
turned to me. "Don't ever save any thing for a special occasion. Every
day you're alive is a special occasion."
I remembered those words through the funeral and the days that
followed when I helped him and my niece attend to all the sad chores
that follow an unexpected death. I thought about them on the plane
returning to California from the Midwestern town where my sister's
family lives. I thought about all the things that she hadn't seen or heard
or done. I thought about the things that she had done without realizing that
they were special. I'm still thinking about his words, and they've changed
my life.
resolution and for 16 bit or better color.
B. Barnes 2000-2001
