Time

Until recently, I was obsessive about time. I was never late and if I was late, it was a catastrophe. As a child, I would get hysterical if we overslept and I was late for school. As a spouse, I stressed at my partner's cavalier attitude towards getting to work on time. I don't know why I was this way. But I do know why I changed. Instead of obsessing about time, now I obsess if I can check the computer one more time before I leave home. I'm rarely late... but I do cut it close!

This has been a horrible week, starting with the old man calling for an ambulance to take him to the Emergency Room.  I arrived before the paramedics and along with my mother was the brunt of verbal abuse. He is not a stoic Swede like my in-laws. He does not suffer in silence. They sent him home after some tests. He is not sick, just old and worn out and sometimes confused. The silver lining is that we aren't in NY. In and out in only four hours. Back in Brooklyn he would still have been waiting to be seen.

Meetings with Hospice, meetings with the administration of the building where my parents live. Who is in charge? Me. But I don't live there, and I am called last in line. I had a hard day at work on Wednesday. I was snoozing on the couch when the phone rang and in my sleep I decided not to answer it. After listening to voice mail I got in touch with a home medical delivery service. They had brought an electric bed but couldn't deliver it because there was no room. I waited all day Thursday for the call that they were bringing it back. I had to get the old man out of bed and move it to the trash so they could set up the rental one. All the aides were at a meeting at another building so I remade the bed and got him settled. I showed him the controls, but who knows if he understands?

I look at the old man and listen to him complain and think that he has a choice. Why doesn't he look at the beauty of creation and appreciate what little time he does have? Then I look at myself. Why don't I see this time as a precious commodity instead of something to be got through? I am trying. But now I have to try a little harder.

Today at work I complimented a woman on her well behaved children. She did that annoying thing that we sometimes do as mothers. She said, "Well right now they are." Yes, appreciate it because the times in the past that they misbehaved are gone and all she had was right now. What guarantee do any of us have that we will be alive longer than the next breath? So if I am waiting to appreciate life until after the old man passes, I am wasting my life right now.

David Byrne of Talking Heads writes: "Time isn't holding us, time isn't after us, time doesn't hold us back." So who does? In this moment I can only commit to trying to be in this moment. And if this moment holds pain, so be it. This too shall pass.

A little Talking Heads for your pleasure.