A Story To Live
By
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 and said,
"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,
or the first camellia
blossom.
I wear my good blazer to
the
market if I feel
like it.
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 even 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
children
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 from God.
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