This summer has been especially memorable. After four years of working hard on our bare landscape, we finally have our garden and the Fancy Farm Barn set up and running. But it wasn't the beauty of these things that set my heart in motion thinking about the time left that I had with my children, or feeling the deep warmth of the sun on my face. It was an unexpected day that firmly placed my gaze where it needed to be.
Last week, I was finishing up a day outside before going on a shopping trip with my daughter. As we went out and about I felt uneasy about how my heart was feeling. My mind remembering the last few nights when I awoke with my heart racing and arms feeling weak. By the time we had traveled to two stores, I was feeling quite uneasy. Unsure of what was happening. My heart was racing. My arms felt heavy and weak. I felt shortness of breath. I had been researching all of the usual--stroke, heart attack, panic attacks, etc. I just didn't know what I should do. Next thing I know, I am heading into the Emergency Room with a flutter of activity. I hear my daughter call out to me, "Mom, I love you" as I went back to the ER room. As I lay there, nurses checking heart activity, chest X-Rays, and the full work up of tests, my mind ran. It ran and ran. What if this was a heart attack? What if I must have an urgent surgery which I have no time to prepare for? What about my children? Who will my husband call for help? Did I tell each one of my little ones that I loved them this morning?
While it matters. This is the phrase that I thought of when I started this website. Making margin in our lives for the things that matter. To me, this means having enough time at night to read a story to my youngest daughter and to not miss her big smile when she hears about Pinkalicious eating all of the sweets...again. This means saving enough space in my mind to watch my kids' Martial Arts class and notice them doing amazing things...and telling them that I saw. This means seeing the person behind the sign that reads, "Anything Helps". Then actually giving them what they are asking for. And to do all of this, while it matters.
It matters today. Because as I lay in that hospital bed with the flurry of activity, I thought perhaps there would be no tomorrow. Frankly, I had not pondered that before. That day could have been my last. But it wasn't. I still have time.
Time to kiss my husband like we just met.
Time to smile at a stranger who just might need it.
Time to write a note of encouragement to a friend.
Time to hear someone telling us something important to them.
Time to notice the quietness of the bunnies hopping in the barn.
Time to give a dollar to someone who asks.
Time to notice when someone needs a hand.
Time to hug a child like you haven't seen them in days.
Time to light up when someone you love walks through the door.
I am so glad that I still have time. It turns out that my Potassium had gone much too low and when out of balance, it can mimic symptoms of a heart attack. What a lesson. I want to feel, look, notice, hear, touch and be present. After all, this is what matters most to me. The people in my life. My people. My community. My world that I can touch and change if I make the time and space for that which matters...while it matters.