Every so often, I stop to think about what is really important to me. I find that the older I get, the more my list of things indispensable gets shorter, while my list of things I can live without gets longer. When I was 7 years old, I thought my life would be over if I didn't get that boy doll, who wore real 6-months baby clothes, for Christmas. When I was 11, I was devastated when my baby pet pig did not survive a rather harsh central Texas winter. And, when I was 17, the strapless prom dress my Mother made me confirmed my very existence.
I smile when I think of what used to be so essential in my life. What now keeps me focused on life is the short, but very meaningful, inventory that follows - in order of no particular importance:
-the touch of my husband's hand as I crawl out of bed much too early each morning - no words, just a touch, to let me know he's there when I need him;
-the way my granddaughter Emily pleads, "Nana, pick up the phone, Nana," when my telephone answering machine does its job, which is all too frequently these days;
-really good books - especially about time travel or anything historical;
-my daughter's email messages - I know how busy she is, and she knows how busy I am, yet we still manage to "talk" almost daily - ah, technology!
-ice tea - very, very cold ice tea, when I want it and where I want it;
-a job well done - regardless of how small or seemingly insignificant, and the realization that it's the small successes that are the most satisfying;
-time - to do nothing, say nothing, with nothing expected, nothing demanded - lots of time to sew, to quilt, to needlepoint, to create and document my life;
-laughter - life's most effective medicine. He who cannot laugh truly does not live;
-my family tree - my sense of belonging and tradition is strengthened with each completed branch, along with the opportunity to pass along the unparalleled feeling of caring about all the family that has gone before, supporting the family that is here today, and a generating a resource of love for the family of tomorrow.
What's important to me is not the materialistic, not things that money can buy, power can possess, or control can conquer. After all, happiness doesn't come from having things - it comes from being a part of things. What is important is to cherish and be cherished. After all, there is only one me. There never was, and never will be, quite another.
Was that a great collective sigh of relief I just heard?
Spring 1998
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