A STORY TO LIVE BY
My brother-in-law opened the bottom drawer
of my sister's bureau
and lifted a tissued-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 thru the funeral
and the days that
followed when I helped him and my niece attend to the sad chores that
follow an unexpected death. I thought about them in 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 it
changed my life. I am
reading more and dusting less. I am sitting on the deck admiring the
view without fussing about the weeds in the garden. I am 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 am 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 camelia 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 am not sure what my sister would have done had
she
known that she wouldn't be here for the tomorrow we will 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 am guessing --- I'll never know. It's those little
things left undone that would make me angry if I knew 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 have not written certain
letters 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 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, Itell myself that it is special. Every day, every minute, every
breath truly is...a gift from God.
by Ann Wells (Los Angeles Times, 4/14/85)