A Special Occasion
>> Monday, January 10, 2011
A friend of mine opened his wife's underwear drawer and picked up a silk paper wrapped package.
'This isn't any ordinary package.”
He unwrapped the box and stared at both the silk paper and the box.
“She got this the first time we went to New York , eight or nine years ago … and she’s never put it on … saving it for a special occasion. Well, I guess this is it.”
He walked to the bed and placed the gift box next to the other clothing he was taking to the funeral home. His wife had just died.
'This isn't any ordinary package.”
He unwrapped the box and stared at both the silk paper and the box.
“She got this the first time we went to New York , eight or nine years ago … and she’s never put it on … saving it for a special occasion. Well, I guess this is it.”
He walked to the bed and placed the gift box next to the other clothing he was taking to the funeral home. His wife had just died.
He turned to me and said, “Never save something for a special occasion. Every day in your life is a special occasion.”
Those words changed my life. Now I read more and clean less. I sit on the porch without worrying about anything. I spend more time with my family, and less at work. I understand that life should be a source of experiences to be lived … not just survived.
Those words changed my life. Now I read more and clean less. I sit on the porch without worrying about anything. I spend more time with my family, and less at work. I understand that life should be a source of experiences to be lived … not just survived.
I use crystal glasses every day. I wear new clothes to go to the supermarket, if I feel like it. I don't save my special perfume for special occasions … I use it whenever I want.
The words “someday” and “one day” are fading from my vocabulary. If it's worth seeing, listening or doing, I want to see, listen or do it … now. It's these small things that I would regret not doing, if I knew my time had come.
Tomorrow is promised to no one.
(Author Unknown)
1 comments:
I stand on the flat rock beside the low,fall river, watching silently as an aging buck eases out of the Aspen trees to sip the nectar of the mountains. He looks directly into my eyes...are you going to hurt me? The breathe from his nostrils fills the early sunlit valley. And like our tomorrow's having no promise, I live in the moment.
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