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, handmade 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 anything 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.
I'm reading more and dusting less. I'm sitting on the 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 camellia blossom.

I wear my good blazer to the market if I feel like it. My theory
is if I look prosperous, I can shell out $28.49 for one small bag
of groceries without wincing. I'm not saving my good perfume for
special parties; clerks in hardware stores 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 and hear and do it now. I'm not sure what my sister would have
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 it is special.

Every day, every minute, every breath truly is...a gift.