Something to think about

One of these days.. My best friend opened a drawer in his wife’s chest of drawers and took out a little package wrapped in tissue paper. It was not just any package: it contained lingerie. He tossed the paper aside and looked sadly at the silk and lace. “I bought this for her when we first went to New York. That must have been eight or nine years ago. She never wore it. She wanted to save it for a special occasion. And now I think this is the right moment.” He went over to the bed and laid the lingerie beside the other things the funeral directors would collect. His wife had died. Turning to me, he said: “Never put anything away for a special occasion. Every day you live is a special occasion.” I always remember those words. They changed my life. Today I read more than I used to and clean less. I sit on my terrace and enjoy nature without paying attention to the weeds in my garden. I spend more time with my family and friends and less time working. I realised that life is a collection of experiences to be treasured. From now on I no longer put things away and save them. I use my crystal glasses every day. If I feel like it, I even wear my new jacket to the supermarket. I use my favourite perfumes whenever I want to as well. Phrases such as “one day...” or “one of these days...” no longer exist for me; I have thrown them out of my vocabulary. If something is worth it, I want to see it, hear it and do it here and now. I am not entirely sure what my friend’s wife would have done if she had known she would not be here tomorrow: a tomorrow we all take so lightly for granted. I think she would have called her family and a few close friends. Perhaps I too would call some old friends to make peace and apologise for past arguments. I especially like the thought that she might have wanted to go out for Chinese food, her favourite, one more time. It is those little things left undone that would trouble me deeply if I knew my days were numbered. I would be distressed too if I had not seen certain friends I meant to contact “one of these days”. I would be distressed to discover that I had not written those letters I wanted to write “one of these days”. I would be distressed that I had not often told those closest to me how much I loved them. Now I will no longer miss, postpone until tomorrow or save anything that could bring joy and laughter into my life. I tell myself that every day is special: every day, every hour and every minute. But if you are too busy to spare a few minutes and tell yourself “someday...”, that tomorrow may take a long time to arrive, and you may never do it... Unknown author