This was written by an 83-year-old woman to her friend. I’d like to think I’m living like this now. I have a dinner planned with my 3 other female cousins in California, who I didn’t always bother to keep up with, but now that we’re all adults, I think we can enjoy each other more. One of these cousins and I are gonna take a cooking class (“Extreme Chocolate”) in September. My oldest girl friend (we met age 6) and I are planning a 3-day cruise in September. We’ve never been on one, and would like to see what all the hype’s about. And of course, the college roommate and I have our week-long Cancun trip in the works for the end of September. I’m also tired of my saved perfume going bad, expensive products expiring, good food molding, pretty candles melting.

Dear Bertha,

I’m reading more and dusting less. I’m sitting in the yard 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 working.

Whenever possible, life should be a pattern of experiences to savor, not to
endure. I’m trying to recognize these 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, or the
first Amaryllis blossom.

I wear my good blazer to the market. My theory is if I look prosperous, I
can shell out $28.49 for one small bag of groceries. I’m not saving my good
perfume for special parties, but wearing it for clerks in the hardware store
and tellers at the bank.

“Someday” and “one of these days” are losing their grip on my vocabulary. If
it’s worth seeing or hearing or doing, I want to see and hear and do it now.

I’m not sure what others would’ve done had they known they wouldn’t be here
for the tomorrow that we all take for granted. I think they would have
called family members and a few close friends. They might have called a few
former friends to apologize and mend fences for past squabbles. I like to
think they would have gone out for a Chinese dinner or for whatever their
favorite food was.

I’m guessing; I’ll never know.

It’s those little things left undone that would make me angry if I knew my
hours were limited. 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 parents 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, tell myself that
it is special.

Every day, every minute, every breath truly is a gift from God.