Moments

I haven't written for awhile. I have alot of things I have been thinking about writing, just don't seem to get around to it. I actually wrote this post last Saturday, but decided it was too self-centered and sentimental to post. Then I got an email from my friend Bert saying that she was filling out a Mother's Day card and was thinking about our friend Joan and me. We both have lost our mothers:

The great thing about blogging is that you don’t have to consider your audience when writing. You can occasionally write about universally interesting subjects like politics, racism, books and the like. On the other hand, blogging also has a very personal, almost diary-like characteristic to it.

So today, I feel a bit more introspective and self indulgent. Please bare with me.

Several months ago, I spent ten days in Montana with my mother during her final days. I received a phone call from my friend Joan. As time has gone by, we haven’t stayed in real close contact, but she has always had this thing about being there when I needed her, so I wasn’t at all surprised to hear her voice on the other end.

Joan told me about the time she spent with her mother during her final days. She explained how her family had spent that time waiting, crying, laughing, playing games, etc. She explained the importance of these “moments”. We spend the majority of our lives dealing with things that are pretty much trivial, while all but ignoring these small moments together that really matter.

I got it, but I didn’t really understand at the time just how profound of an impact that conversation would have on me.

It wasn’t the first time Joan had presented this lesson to me, though. When I was all of twenty years old, I broke up with a girl. Now ending a relationship is never easy, and although I was just a kid, this one was particularly tough.

At the time, Joan had just started dating a guy and was very interested in him. When she heard about my situation, she came over, called her new boyfriend and told him she needed to break their date that night. She made me Swedish meatballs. I remember the recipe called for a certain amount of black pepper, but she misread the teaspoon measurement and used a tablespoon instead. They were very spicy meatballs. It is funny how you can remember moments like that, but in the end, they are the moments that really matter.

I used to spend a lot of time on things like following the stock market, being concerned about my net worth, or trying to figure out what nice car I would be driving next. They are all still things I keep an eye on, but since that conversation with Joan several months ago, I am so much more aware of moments. The careers we have, the things we own, and the people we spend way too much time trying to impress are all just filler, things to keep us occupied while we wait for more of these real moments to present themselves.

My mother once told me that the thing that really makes me different is the incredible group of friends that I have been fortunate to have. They are a special group. In many ways, they define who I am. Thanks Joan. I am so incredibly grateful you are one of them. (...and you, too, Berta.)

..and I promise not to be too sappy again for awhile. Maybe I will do my next post on the cover story of the Enquirer I saw while in the check out line at the grocery store. According to them, apparently Hillary is having a secret lesbian affair...