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've done had
she known that she wouldn't be here for the tomorrow
that 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. Everyday,
every minute, every breath truly is... a gift from God.
