In The Blink of an Eye

timeYou ever go on a job interview , and the guy or girl asked what you saw yourself doing in 5 years? When I was younger I thought, “boy, who knows…that’s a long time to think about.” Today…not so long.

I was driving to work this morning and I was letting my mind wander to five years from now. Of course anything could happen; I know this. But say I had the fortune of everything running smoothly in my life—what would I see myself doing? Hmmm…

Anyone who knows me, knows how restless I am. We don’t know the reason why, but merely accept that I don’t like the grass growing too long beneath my feet. And another five years would put me ten years total in my current house. TEN YEARS!! Okay, that scared me. Ten years? Have I stayed anywhere for longer than seven? Seven year itch, right?

Then I thought, three of my children will have graduated school—one even from college. OMG. That leaves only two. Two? That seemed like nothing. Who knows how to cook for only four? I could even trade in my glorious, rockin’ minivan for a real vehicle. I’ve already gotten rid of all the car seats. But, I digress. So there I was driving and thinking and I realized I wanted to move. Really move. Like in out of state. I’ve always wanted to. Why not? So there it is. There’s my “what will I be doing in five years?” plan. It might take six, but no more than that.

I was so excited with the thought of a change. I worked all day with a serene smile on my face, and came home tonight and announced it. I told my 9 and 7 year olds that we would indeed not be seeing them graduate from the county where we currently resided. They could’ve cared less. Whatever. I suppose they think I’m all talk, or perhaps they don’t care at the moment. After all, what does five years mean to them? Luckily, it means all the time in the world. To me—it’s a blink of the eye.



Squandering1I’m pretty sure I’m not the only one who is guilty of this. Nothing was more evident than the last day of our vacation, of how we squandered our time there all week. Sure, we did a little of this and a little of that. But, mostly we wasted a lot of our time trying to figure out and all vote on what to do. I’ve got that age gap of children where the fifteen year old wanted to stay inside on a device and the seven year old wanted to go the pool. My twelve year old daughter would jump from “I’m bored, let’s go do something”, to going to the beach and thirty minutes later saying, “Why can’t we just go home? Is this what we’re going to be doing every day?”

So, on the last day of our precious time in Seabrook, we woke up early, got breakfast out of the way, took a bicycle ride around the pond, spent four hours on the beach, enjoyed a picnic, walked around and shopped at the little town, watched a concert, and rode to the pool to find it was closed due to rain. Why did it take until Friday to realize our time was running out and we needed to enjoy every minute of it? Isn’t that life?

Every time my mother would gift me a pricey candle, I’d smile, inhale the fragrance until I was woozy, then stick it in my darkened closet to forget about. When she’d buy me expensive body cream, I’d take the tip of my finger and wipe the little paper under the lid and dab my wrists…once a month. (Come to think of it, my mother is the only one who indulges me with the nice stuff:)!

Why do I feel bad for burning the extravagant candles and using the expensive sheets on my bed? It isn’t as though they’re getting better with age, or I’m taking them back for a refund. Why do I save it? For what? It’s a big problem of mine. I notice it’s the little things, too. If I like a certain food, I wait and eat it last. Sometimes I’m too full to enjoy it when it’s time to eat it.

I’ve done it with opportunities, as well. I suppose we all think we’re immortal. That’s how we get through the day, I suppose. If you think about how temporary everything is, we’d question why we go through the hard work. Nevertheless, I’ve held back in the past, thinking there was time, thinking I’d have the chance at a later date. Guess what? Time passes and so does chances. They’re like rainbows. If you wait too long after the rain’s stopped to go outside and see it,  the rainbow fades.

Seize the moment, eat the food while it’s still hot and you’re hungry, sleep on the five hundred count sheets while wearing your most expensive body cream. And, light that candle while it still has that irresistible aroma. Time moves quickly and waits for no one. I only wish we’d had spent every day of our vacation like the last one. Literally.