Sometimes life just doesn’t make sense. I realize that this is no
surprise. There is no guarantee of anything. Unfortunately, we mostly don’t
live our lives as if it were our last day. We do not live life to the fullest.
We do not strive to be our best. To do our best. We live our lives with this
sense of entitlement. That if someone else has something we find it hard to be
happy for them but rather wonder at the injustice that we do not have the same.
We think that it is unfair. Fairness, a concept that, when it comes to the
singularly most important thing, does not exist. My mom’s great axiom: if you
don’t have your health, you don’t have anything.
Today I received an invitation to join a group online which has been
formed to provide support to a family we know who is dealing with cancer. This
family is young, very young, too young to be dealing with cancer. Only a couple
of weeks ago, the Dad had stomach pains and thought that he had eaten bad bar
food, went to the doctor and received a diagnosis of pancreatic cancer. I have
worked with his wife. He was, at one time, involved with government relations
and I would run into him at the Capitol. They have a daughter who is around the
same age as my son. This hits very close to home for me. It makes me want to
pack up my son and run back to Hawaii immediately because as I spend six months
with my aging mother, it is a reminder that there is no guarantee regarding the
loved ones we left behind in Hawaii. No guarantee. We came to NY to try to balance
out the seesaw. To try to spread out the equity of time. The thing is, that
without knowing, and you can’t know, you have no idea if you are actually
balancing or not. There is no way to determine the balancing. To know where we
should be when our hearts want to be everywhere.
I joined the group immediately. According to the most recent update,
chemo has just started this week. It’s just that it is tough diagnosis. And the
thing that they would want, the thing that can’t be volunteered for or given away,
is just time. Time to be together. Just more time to be. What if it were possible to donate part of your time, like donating some of your sick leave at work? If you could say, sure,
cut my life short by a month near the end there and give it to him. To
guarantee more. To provide more living. More hope. More being. Clearly since
this is not a possibility, maybe the best thing that can be offered is a vow to
just get off your ass and start living your life already. To use the gift of
time that you have. To use it because the time really is now, trust me, it is.