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Schmaltz, but true
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I received the following in an email from an elderly friend:

Dear Sarah,
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

I'm not "saving" anything; I use my
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 $38.49 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
daughter and my friends 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 the Universe.

I love you,
Your friend M.

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