Thursday, June 30, 2011

Bigger Picture Moment: When Time Runs Out

The way it goes is so normal for all of us that it's a hard cycle to break away from.  We think I really should give him a call or I'll write her a long letter -- she'll enjoy that or Next time I order pictures, I'll send some to them specifically

And then, it also goes this way: you can't do any of those things when time runs out. 

So it was this week for me -- time ran out.  With my Step-Grandma. 

It's true -- I didn't know her very well and I can't say that we had a particularly close relationship.  But my memories of her always include feeling well-loved and being smiled-upon.  Whatever family tension there may have been (as I'm sure there was) wasn't on my childhood radar, and I only knew that she was gentle and present.

She was good at sending birthday cards with a sweet note inside -- perhaps a picture of my grandpa and 5-year-old me smiling together.  Last time she sent a note, I made a resolution: I'll send new pictures of the girls (she's never met Lauren, has she?) and write a long, pen-pal type letter.  She'll enjoy that, I think.

But I got busy.  Life-busy.  Keeping up with kids busy and resting quietly in the downtime busy.  I won't say there weren't moments that I couldn't have sat down and penned a few lines just to make her smile, because I did have time.  The trouble was that I assumed the time wouldn't matter. 

The trouble was, she'd been sick for awhile without making much of her symptoms.  The trouble was, time flew away from us. 

The trouble was, I never got around to making a point of connecting, and now I can't.

Like I said -- we weren't close, and I'm neither shattered with desolation at her passing nor wracked with guilt that I missed sending that letter.  I'm actually glad for her sake that she can finally rest peacefully and without pain.  But I will miss knowing that she's thinking of me on my birthday, and I will miss knowing that she could have been smiling at a silly letter from her step-granddaughter. 

And in a selfish way, I feel grateful to her for reminding me (because I forget so quickly): we don't have endless time in which to show our love.  It's now or never. 

It's now. 

Do me a favor?  That person you've been meaning to connect with -- do it today.  It'll be worth it.

We're seeing the Bigger Picture through simple moments -- moments that force us to stop and take notice of the ways our worlds are important, meaningful, and beautiful. Please join us at Melissa's place today! Grab the button, link up and then go forth to encourage the two people before you as they walk this journey of intentional living.


  1. I think we all need reminders like this, even when we wish we didn't. And thanks for it today, Sarah. I'm sorry for your family's loss, friend.

  2. Thank you for that reminder. I am going to go and catch up with some people I've been meaning to but haven't gotten around to.

    I'm sorry for your loss.

  3. I have some aunts that need to hear from me more often...thanks for the reminder! I'm sorry you lost your step-grandma. She sounds like a sweet person.

  4. Sometimes I feel like this is my life -- like I want to take time for these things, but I let other "important" things take precedence. Thank you for this reminder. I forget so quickly, too.

  5. And, Sarah, I'm sorry for the loss of a special person in your life who always remembered your birthday. Those people are far and few in between.

  6. Love this reminder today. It is so very true.

  7. So very true. I *almost* wrote a BPM post about this this week too - prompted by a classmate who brought flowers for our teacher on our last day of class and how I really wish I'd thought to do something similar. I really want to be better at thinking to do (and following through with) the small gestures of appreciation and kindness that brighten another's day. Thank you for the reminder.

    In the meantime, I'm sorry for your family's loss. Though you might not have been close, she sounds like she was a wonderful, thoughtful and humble woman.


Hmm...And how did that make you FEEL?