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Time Well Spent

Priscilla | Jan 24, 2010


It’s hard for me to wrap my mind around today’s date. When I turned on my computer, opened my calendar and saw the number “25” at the top of today’s square, I was a bit overwhelmed. Can’t you believe that it is already the 25th of January? February is only a few days away. After that, March will ring in the spring. Then the kids will be out of school for the summer. Then the trees will be bare again as the autumn months roll in. . .

Okay, I’m getting a bit ahead of myself but you get the point.

Time is marching on with no respect to our feelings about it.

There are two groups of people in my life whose presence seems to accentuate the acceleration of time: my children and my grandparents. Peering into the faces of my little ones each day, week and month assures me that they won’t be little for long. They are so much taller and so much more logical than they were last year. I can’t believe our conversations that are becoming more and more “adult.”

Then there are my beloved grandparents. My maternal grandmother is 92 and lives just minutes from me. I see her at least once a week at church but lately I’m quite dissatisfied with that arrangement. I want to be in her presence more often. When I look in her eyes I’m increasingly aware that I won’t get to be with her forever. There won’t always be chances to listen to her tales of days gone by, hold her hand while walking down the road, look into her glassy eyes or take in her engaging smile. Time won’t allow it. It’s too busy passing for that.

So, this past week, I just picked her up and took her out. Sure, I had lots of other things to do. There was dinner to make, homework to do, writing and studying to finish and laundry to fold, but somehow I couldn’t think of any better way to spend my time than sharing a hot meal (coupled with tall glass of sweet tea and finished with Blue Bell Vanilla ice cream) with my beloved Grandma. I talked a little, but mostly I just stared. I wanted to take in every movement, every wrinkle, and every comment. I took time to touch her, to talk to her, to. . . behold her.

This is my Grandma.

This is my legacy.

And this was time well spent.