My whole family has suffered from the cold of the century this past month. It is a lingering, annoying, disgusting little bug that has riddled each one of us with a months worth of dirty tissues, nagging coughs and endless sneezes. I’m confidant that we are on the home stretch of this germ fest but there are still the last few sniffles that remain. My sleep has been dramatically effected, as it is hard to breath when you can’t breath. Brian, the concerned and loving husband that he is, asked me the other day how I was feeling and I responded with “I’m dying”.
Well it was true. We are all in fact dying. I realize it was a little harsh, when he was really asking how I felt at the present moment and if I had had a better nights sleep. He glared at me unamused and I shrugged it off as a joke, but I’m not sure if I was joking.
You see, I am dying. Not today, hopefully, but I am going to kick the bucket someday. I don’t get to know when that day is so for all I know, it may be tomorrow. I’m not trying to be morbid and creepy, there really is a point to this.
I think about the people that are sentenced to death from cancer. The doctor tells them that they have six months to live. What do they do? They sure as heck don’t live like they have forever. They surround themselves with the ones they love. They do the things that they have always wanted to. They take every minute of every day as a gift because their time clock is on its final countdown.
How about people that work in the armed forces to protect our country. The men and women that fight on the front lines where it is most dangerous. I can bet my life that when they are home on a leave that they are counting every blessing and every minute because they don’t know if they will have them again. Their time could expire the next time they are deployed so they make every minute at home count.
For some reason, when our brain realizes that we may be almost done here, that is when we want to hold on for dear life. Think about the five year old at a park. After an hour they start to slow down and tucker out. You can tell that they don’t have much energy left so you give a five minute warning. Suddenly the energy returns with gale force. When the clock was endless it is easy to become complacent and tucker out. When the clock is ticking suddenly every slide must be hit once more. Every swing must be swung.
I think it is a brilliant lesson to be learned. I want to hold on for dear life. The same as the patient dying of cancer and the soldier ready for war and the five year old with a five minute warning. We all have no idea when our five minute warning will be or if we will even have a warning. Tomorrow is promised to no one. We are all going to die and we have no idea exactly when.
I certainly don’t want a diagnosis of cancer and tomorrow I’m definitely not going to jump out into oncoming traffic just to see if I’m meant to be here. However, I do wonder if we could all live a little better of a life if we had in our mind that tomorrow really might be it.
I have recently started to wake up in the morning and before my first sip of coffee, I thank the Lord for another day. I am realizing that it is a gift to just be here. I thank God for Brian and my kids waking up yet again and I start my day.
I also have started to take snip its of the day and live them in slow motion. All too often I rush around the house doing chores, working, getting kids ready, just the tasks of living. I rush through them to the point that I am numb to them and even hate them from time to time. The new me is trying to make moments count. I am trying to live in slow motion.
I would despise getting up in the morning and having to get everyone ready. Uggg it is the worst part of my day. We fight over outfits that I picked out, fight over what shoes to wear, fight over breakfast and what to pack for lunch. The morning was the worst part of my day until later when something else happened to take the title. I sat in traffic and was late to work. I forgot to pack my own lunch and didn’t eat all day. I was late picking Jacob up from school….again and looked like an idiot. Uggg it is the worst part of my day. Dinner was terrible and everyone hated it, I despise every second of homework, bathtime never came because I suck at being a mom. Ugggg it is the worst part of my day.
I would feel this way every day. I still slip back into it here and there, but I am trying to re-frame my way of looking at the worst parts of my day. I love that I was blessed with the ability to wake up today, so many are not. I’m overjoyed that I have made a daughter so independent that she would want to choose her own outfit. If shoes are the biggest problem I have today, I am a lucky girl. I may have burnt the toast but I couldn’t be more thankful that we have food to eat at all. I may have skipped lunch today but it gave me a chance to catch up on some phone calls that needed to be made. I was late again but Jacob smiled at me just as if I was on time. Homework is quality time spent with one of the loves of my life. The dirt and the bath will be there tomorrow. Hopefully, so will we.
All the things that were the worst things, really don’t mean anything. Do you think that the person with six months to live is thinking twice about any of this. I should hope not, so why am I? I too am dying. You are dying. We are all dying.
I am dying, so every moment needs to count. Tonight for the first time ever, I let the kids decorate our Christmas tree all by themselves. It was a slow process that left a very bottom heavy tree with many sparse spots but I watched as Cassidy went up and put on one ornament and then Jacob. Every second was enjoyed and cherished, even the moments when I had to snap at them to slow down. I can look at each and every ornament and tell you who hung them. We didn’t decorate just to get it done. We did it with purpose. This was a night to remember. It was a night to cherish. Tomorrow will be the same … if it should come.