Wisconsin Community Mental Health Counseling Centers, Inc.

His hands lingered on the soft material for a moment, then he slammed the drawer shut and turned to me. "Don't ever save anything for a special occasion. Every day you're alive is a special occasion." I remembered those words through the funeral and the days that followed when I helped him and my siblings to attend to all the sad chores that followed an unexpected death. I thought about them as I was returning home. I thought about all the things that she hadn't seen or heard or done. I thought about the things she had done without realizing that they were special.

I'm still thinking about his words, and they've changed my life. I'm reading more and dusting less. I'm sitting on the deck and admiring the view without fussing about the weeds in the garden. I'm spending more time with my family and friends and less time in committee meetings. Whenever possible life should be a pattern of experience to savor, not endure. I'm trying to recognize those moments now and cherish them. I'm not "saving" anything. We use our good china and crystal for every special event, such as losing a pound, getting the sink unstopped, the first crocus blossom in the spring. I wear my good blazer to the market if I feel like it. My theory is if I look prosperous, I can shell out $30.00 for one small bag of groceries without wincing. I'm not saving my good perfume for special parties. Clerks in hardware stores and tellers in banks have noses that function as well as my party-going friends!

"Someday" and "one of these days" are losing their grip on my vocabulary. If it's worth seeing, hearing or doing, I want to see and hear and do it now. I'm not sure what my mother would have done had she known that she wouldn't be here for the tomorrow we all take for granted. I think she would have called family members and a few close friends. She might have called a few former friends to apologize and mend fences for past squabbles. I like to think she would have gone out for a Chicken dinner, her favorite food. I'm guessing-I'll never know.

It's those little things left undone that would make me angry if I knew that my hours were limited. Angry because I put off seeing good friends whom I was going to get in touch with-someday. Angry because I hadn't written certain letters that I intended to write-one of these days. Angry and sorry that I didn't tell my husband and sons often enough how much I truly love them.

I'm trying very hard not to put off, hold back or save anything that would add laughter and luster to our lives. And every morning when I open my eyes, I tell myself that it is special. Every day, every minute, every breath truly is..a gift from God.

Peggy Dennison is a psychotherapist and author. Call her at 414-367-5570, or write her at 155 E. Capitol Dr., Suite 5, Hartland, WI 53029