The gift of time

My toy when I was two

When I was a little girl, it didn't take much to make me happy, and I got just as attached to those little stuffed animals or dolls to feel as though my life would end if they were lost. I can still remember the ache of longing for some long-forgotten item from the past. I may have forgotten what it was, but I can remember all too well the feeling of loss. That is something that goes right along with life: learning to let go of what I once owned, who I once was, and loved ones who will never return.

I saw a movie yesterday with my friend Judy. It hasn't gotten great reviews and was adapted from a play, and it has somewhat of that feeling. We enjoyed it nevertheless, and how could you not when the movie has Maggie Smith in it? The movie, "My Old Lady," also stars Kevin Kline and Kristin Scott Thomas. It's been a long time since I've seen Kline in a movie, maybe since 1988 when he was in "A Fish Called Wanda," and I was struck by how much he has aged. You go along in life thinking that those people you don't see often are still the same as they were, and then when you see them again, you can hardly believe how much they've changed. I'm sure it's the same for other people when they see me again after decades have passed.

In the movie, Maggie has a line that I thought of several times during the night and inspired this post: in talking about wealth and fortune, she said, "You have the greatest wealth of all: the gift of time." As an old woman of 92, she has only a short time left, and she is aware of it every moment of every day. Although I am twenty years younger than that old woman, I can feel what she meant, since so much time has passed since I was that young toddler with my stuffed animal. Even if I have the gift of twenty more years, that is just not very long at all in the scheme of things. It will pass in the blink of an eye.

But I've been given that gift, as I realize when I stride quickly past an old man who leans heavily on his cane, shuffling carefully down the sidewalk. I've had such a good life already, and I still have more to come, God willing. For the time being, I also have good health. My loved ones who left in their forties, fifties, and sixties did not have the gift of time. Whatever else comes to pass in my life, I will not die prematurely. Or have my hair turn prematurely white, for that matter. I've written before about that "three score and ten" span of a lifetime, and I've managed to achieve it and am skating along through my seventies. I'm not ready to retire from life just yet.

Today my toys are a lot more expensive than that stuffed animal, and I am now looking forward to a new iPad to take the place of my old one. In three years, although it is still very functional, the advances in screen quality and speed have convinced me to upgrade it. I use it every day and carry it with me to the coffee shop or wherever I might be wanting to connect to the outside world. I'm looking forward to showing off my pictures to my friends on my newest toy. It's so new that it has just appeared in the stores. I went yesterday to the local Best Buy to take a look at it, and I am glad I've got my very own iPad coming in the mail tomorrow. It was supposed to have arrived Friday, but the delay has simply spread out my anticipation to encapsulate the weekend.

It has also made me very aware that it's that feeling of anticipation and joy of ownership that I desire. Just like the little girl in the picture, she's got her toy and feels no lack. But long after the toy has worn out its usefulness, the feeling I had when I first held it in my hands, that will be easy to remember. Of course, this is just what the advertisers have in mind: to feed that ephemeral desire to have the latest and greatest. I fell into their trap and I'm not sorry. I can also convince myself that I'm helping bolster the economy. Plus I'll sell my old one to a friend who is anxious to have her own toy, which will be new to her. I can't think of a downside to my purchase. I've already gotten quite a bit of emotional mileage out of it.

The weather has been pretty rainy and blustery all week, and it's no different today. I was hoping that perhaps I might have gotten a chance to make another skydive before the Drop Zone closes for two months, but it isn't going to happen. It's possible I've made my last skydive already. But then again, I'm not selling my gear, and I will keep it in date. That means that if I decide next spring that I want to make another jump or two, it will be possible. Rather than closing the door with a slam, I'll close it gently, and keep my hand on the doorknob for awhile longer. I know that many of you are not surprised that I might want to keep skydiving, but that is a toy that is almost worn out. I would never have believed twenty years ago that I would find myself in this place, almost neutral about whether or not to continue leaping out of airplanes, but that's where I am. And then I'll have a flash of remembrance of being under my beautiful canopy, looking out at Puget Sound, the mountains rising up from the horizon, the wind in my face, and I think well, maybe...

I have been blessed with the gift of time. I'm still able to partake in outdoor activities to my heart's content. Although I know that all things pass, I'll never forget the wonderful feelings that I've experienced in my life. Long ago, I remember thinking that one day I would be an old woman and hoping I'd be glad that my life took the twists and turns that it has. And you know what? I am.

Now it's time to start my day. My partner still sleeps next to me, the rain is drumming on the roof, and my tea is gone. I missed all this last weekend when I was not here; it's true that absence makes the heart grow fonder. It's also true that taking stock of one's life and being grateful for the good things makes one happier. Because of this blog and my habit of writing here every Sunday morning, I have that gift, too. Until we meet again next weekend, I wish you nothing but good things, and the gift of time.