Midi start & stop
My Brother Live
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."
It was exquisite; silk,
handmade and trimmed with a cobweb of lace.
The price tag with an astronomical figure on it was still attached.
"Joan 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.
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 $98.49 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'.
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 daughters
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 day.
Every day, every minute, every breath truly
is.... a gift
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