The narrative below is a good lesson for all of us, particularly we "chronologically gifted" but also to the young among us. It is written from a woman's perspective but applies equally to men. I am sure that many of us have had friends that passed suddenly and unexpectedly. I hope you find it instructive and useful. Rocky
A friend of mine opened his wife's underwear drawer and picked up a silk paper wrapped package.
“This,” he said “isn't any ordinary package.”
He unwrapped the package and stared at both the silk paper and the box.
“She got this the first time we went to New York, 8 or 9 years ago. She has never put it on, was saving it for a special occasion. Well, I guess this is it.”
He went to the bed and placed the gift box next to the other clothing he was taking to the funeral home. His wife had just died. He turned to me and said, “Never save something for a special occasion. Every day in your life is a special occasion.”
I still think those words changed my life. Now I read more and clean less. I sit on the porch without worrying about anything. I spend more time with my family, and less at work. I understand that life should be a source of experience to be lived up to, not survived through. I no longer keep anything. I use crystal glasses every day. I'll wear new clothes to go to the supermarket if I feel like it. I don't save my special perfume for special occasions, I use it whenever I want to.
The words “someday” and “one day” are fading away from my vocabulary. If it's worth seeing, listening to or doing, I want to see, listen to or do it now. I don't know what my friend's wife would have done had she known she wouldn't be there the next morning. This nobody can tell, but I think she might have called her relatives and closest friends. She might call old friends to make peace over past quarrels. I'd like to think she would go out for Chinese, her favorite food.
It's these small things that I would regret not doing, if I knew my time had come. Each day, each hour, each minute, is special. Live for today because tomorrow is promised to no-one.
A friend of mine opened his wife's underwear drawer and picked up a silk paper wrapped package.
“This,” he said “isn't any ordinary package.”
He unwrapped the package and stared at both the silk paper and the box.
“She got this the first time we went to New York, 8 or 9 years ago. She has never put it on, was saving it for a special occasion. Well, I guess this is it.”
He went to the bed and placed the gift box next to the other clothing he was taking to the funeral home. His wife had just died. He turned to me and said, “Never save something for a special occasion. Every day in your life is a special occasion.”
I still think those words changed my life. Now I read more and clean less. I sit on the porch without worrying about anything. I spend more time with my family, and less at work. I understand that life should be a source of experience to be lived up to, not survived through. I no longer keep anything. I use crystal glasses every day. I'll wear new clothes to go to the supermarket if I feel like it. I don't save my special perfume for special occasions, I use it whenever I want to.
The words “someday” and “one day” are fading away from my vocabulary. If it's worth seeing, listening to or doing, I want to see, listen to or do it now. I don't know what my friend's wife would have done had she known she wouldn't be there the next morning. This nobody can tell, but I think she might have called her relatives and closest friends. She might call old friends to make peace over past quarrels. I'd like to think she would go out for Chinese, her favorite food.
It's these small things that I would regret not doing, if I knew my time had come. Each day, each hour, each minute, is special. Live for today because tomorrow is promised to no-one.
