My father says that almost the whole world is asleep: everybody you know, everybody you see, everybody you talk to. He says that only a few people are awake, and they live in a state of constant, total amazement. -- Meg Ryan (as Patricia Graynamore) in Joe versus the Volcano
One today is worth two tomorrows. -- Benjamin Franklin
I've been thinking a lot lately about making the most of every moment, whether it's good or bad. Every one of them is a part of the fabric that makes up our lives and they pass by so quickly that we often don't notice until we're old and watching the last threads trail away. Of course, I AM old and I do think about this stuff more now than I used to, but I thought about it some when I was younger, too. Like everyone, I've allowed too many moments to pass without notice, but there have been things that, by some miracle, I had the good sense to experience fully.
When my nephew was little, he stayed with me every weekday while his parents worked, and during this time we became extremely attached and devoted to each other. He's 12 now and we're still very close. We spend a lot of time together. And, until recently, he never ever left me without giving me a hug and saying that he loved me.
Then, a week or so ago, it happened. I had taken him for a little outing and when he was getting out of the car, he turned back and smiled and said, "Thanks, Tía! See you later!" and left. No "I love you", no hug. I hasten to explain that this was ok with me. He's growing up and kids change, and that's fine. I know that he loves me even when he doesn't say it. But at the same time... there was a tiny pain in my heart when the car door closed. I missed the hug.
Fortunately, I had been preparing for that moment for years. See, one day when he was little, he was sitting on my lap and we were laughing and talking together, and it suddenly occurred to me that the day would come when he wouldn't do that anymore and that I should savor it while it lasted. From that point on, the same thought came to my mind over and over. No matter whether it was a happy time or a moment of frustration, I couldn't stop thinking about the fact that those times wouldn't last forever and I should savor it. So I did, to the best of my ability. And now, as I see our relationship starting to change, I'm ok with it. It's a little sad but... I'm ready. I'll just start savoring every day in a new way now.
About the same time my nephew started staying with me, my father got very sick and became bedridden, a condition that would continue for rest of his life. My family chose to care for him at home as much as possible, and my mother, my middle brother, and I became his main caregivers. He was almost completely paralyzed during this time and required constant care that was sometimes heartbreaking, sometimes frustrating, but almost always exhausting. There were many, many times when I wished -- both for his sake and for mine -- that things were different. But they weren't. I could choose to ignore the situation and get out of the hardship at the cost of missing time with him, or I could choose to care for my father with the same love and commitment that he had given me all my life.
It honestly wasn't an easy decision, but in the end I realized that this was another situation that wouldn't last forever and that I needed to take advantage of every moment that I could have with him. So I did. I spent the next five years juggling my personal and professional life with his needs and any time a ball had to be dropped I made sure that it was one of mine, not his. By the time he died, I was physically and emotionally exhausted (and my mother and brother were as well), but I was thrilled that I had been able to share so much of his life and build memories that I wouldn't have had otherwise. It was one of the two hardest periods of my life so far but I wouldn't trade the experience for anything in the world.
This is a lesson I want never to forget. While my days are sometimes exhausting or infuriating or wonderful or exciting, most of them are so normal that they threaten to slide by without being noticed at all. But I do try. I try to notice them and fully experience the joy or the anger or the sadness or the beauty or even the boredom that they bring. I don't want to reach the end of my life and not know how I got there because I was blind to the days passing me by. Good or bad, I want to feel (reallyfeel) everything that happens to me. I want to be awake for every moment of my life, and I want to live in a state of constant, total amazement.
