Precious Time
What reminds us of what we are supposed to do and why we are supposed to be on this earth in these bodies? It’s not the work I do, it’s not the car I drive, it’s not the fanfare, royalties or the benefits...it is those around me that I love above all else. In most instances the days blur together and time stops for no-one, but on rare occasions moments happen as they should in slow motion and we get to experience more of them.
It seems when we need it most a message comes along that reminds me of what really matters in this life. For me, often life is like drinking from a fire hose...I am still thirsty in the end, often coughing and have lost a few teeth in the process. In the middle of one of the busiest weeks I have ever had, which included meetings and packing and car rides to weddings over 1000 miles away, I got a call from my mother.
“Hi mom, pretty busy right now – What’s up??”
“Hi honey, sorry to bug you, I know you are busy and I don’t want to take too much time. Your cousin Jake had a mole removed from his back and they found a rather aggressive form of cancer called Ewing’s Sarcoma. We don’t know much now, but I will keep you posted. Just thought you should know, keep him in your prayers as we learn more.”
Suddenly, everything screeches back to reality. Time stops for a moment. When it happens I am thankful because it lets me know I am still more human than machine inside. Some things are supposed to jolt us back into our hearts when in too many cases we usually live in our heads. As distant and as much on auto-pilot as my head always is, something real and something close to home always brings me back to the center of the universe where I should be.
“Jake?!? But - he’s like 16?”
Fast forward a few days to an emergency situation where doctors work quickly, biopsies and tests are given, and parents and family hold their breath while we wait to determine the extent of what has found its way into my young cousin’s lungs and bones. Parents spend nights at the hospital with their son as an aggressive form of chemotherapy is discussed. Grandparents cancel vacations in California at a moment’s notice to be where they should be with their grandson and family. Little sister is scared. In the middle of my ridiculous day of meetings and long hour evaluations everything takes its place in the priority of life and love. I return to my center where I know I belong. My eyes well up, a tear rolls down my cheek and I have to pull over to the side of the road. Time ticks on, but hopefully time is on our side.
“He is going to be okay mom, he has to be.”
In the middle of it all is a wedding over a thousand miles away in New Jersey that we are not going to miss and we need to be there tomorrow. Into Blackula, the ninja like mini-van, to embark on our eastern seaboard trip to dress up and see another cousin get married in an event that brought family members together from across the continent. Seeing a gorgeous young couple surrounded by so many well-dressed, relatively sober relatives on the dance floor is a quality reminder of how life can be when we are at our best. I can only say we likely ate and drank and danced more than any of us should have, but it was more spectacular than any of us dreamed. Although the time and money spent to make the event go off without a hitch must have been exponential, the evening seemed to be over in a heartbeat.
Just a week ago my amazing, Macaroni wife celebrated a milestone birthday surrounded by loving family and a chef throwing knives and squirting Saki. The night was fantastic and we spoke much of how time marches on and only seems to accelerate as we continue through our years. I cannot tell you my wife’s age (it’s not 25), but she wears it well and still looks beautiful each and every time I look at her -- especially when our high maintenance, turbo child sneaks into bed and sleeps with her cheek to cheek. Time won’t stop for anyone, though we should have the option of slowing down the most important moments we spend together so that they can be savored and enjoyed to the fullest.
As I sit here now, my thoughts turn to my oldest daughter in college and my only son and his wife as they prepare to buy their first home in Virginia, and I think about how proud I am of all of them. Now I am watching my 8 year old as she runs through the room with attitude and ridiculously long hair that is going to have to be cut before it gets caught in a car door somewhere. I watch her and know that it wasn’t long ago that she was in diapers and toddling into walls and tables, but now we are bound for 3rd grade and soccer and (hopefully) great things ahead. I also know if anything happened to her, life as I know it would be over for me. If I could freeze time to watch her grow up I would do so without a second thought.
I remember a day when friends might have taken more of a priority in my life because they meant so much to me. My thinking was that at least you can choose your friends, but you are stuck (saddled/cursed/hopelessly tied) with your family for an eternity. Especially my family of crazy, trailer park living, moonshine drinking, Jerry Springer watching nut jobs that would have the majority of mental patients begging for other roommates and alternate living accommodations if placed in the same cell. Yet, when something happens to your family, it also happens to you. It hits home and strikes nerves that were previously sleeping -- it wakes parts of us up that might have been dormant for years.
I know that I am eternally grateful for the protection and safety over my children, family and friends. Thank you for keeping my wife and kids and ma and pa safe. Thank you for protecting aunts and uncles and keeping cousins safe too. Thank you for hearing our prayers and healing and fixing our hearts, bodies and minds that need to be mended. Thank you for protecting us all because we know that we are all connected in one way or another somehow. I promise to remember more often what matters today and what matters most every day. For the rest of this day, the rest of this vacation and the rest of my life I will pretend that it is my last day. I will live better, love deeper and watch carefully to record each and every moment I can in what I remember. I realize we can’t stop time, but I will focus more on what matters most and live these days because they are golden.
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