There are
two events that take place over the course of a life that are “officially”
recorded; our time of birth and our time of death. We live and die by the
clock. I think that was a line from a movie. It’s true though. I don’t know
what time my mom was born, but I do know what time she died, 4:30am. “Officially”
it has been recorded at six-something.
I don’t know why I am thinking about that this
morning. I’m not feeling super sad, I just think that time, at times, is the
enemy.
Time to get
up, time to eat, time to go, time to go to sleep. The clock never stops. I can
stop the timepieces in my home, but the clock of the world keeps ticking.
Where does
the time go? We all say it. We also say, “Time flies and before you know it…”
Even when we think time is moving at a snail’s pace, it is still moving. We
hear, “time of birth…” and “time of death…” Time may stop here for the
deceased, but we still have to hear the tick-tock.
Why are we
in a hurry? What do we think will happen when we hurry up? All we are really
doing is wishing our time away. I do it all the time. We all do.
Time seemed
to stand still when my mom called to tell me her diagnosis. It didn’t, but
because I was alone and the house was quiet, I felt like it did. I bet she felt
like she was in a tunnel going 100mph. Someone told her that she had, at best,
three years. She held on to that. What if someone told you that? What if
someone told you that at the most, time was going to stop for you in three years?
Well that just isn’t enough time. I’ve said that a lot. She said that a lot.
I’m really
sounding depressed here. I’m not. I just get tired of looking at that clock and
wondering what’s next. Hurry and get to work because if we aren’t on time,
someone else is waiting to take our place. Hurry home so we can spend as much
time watching television or whatever people do. Everything has a time frame.
Why is that? Why is 10 minutes the magic time on my hair color touch-up? What
happens if I go 11 minutes? I know what happens if I bake a cake too long. That
time seems sort of important (I like cake, a lot). What happens if that show
doesn’t come on at the pre-set time? What is the worst that is going to happen?
It aggravates me too, but I don’t watch much TV anymore so I just move on.
Ballet starts at 10:45 and when we run late, something tightens up inside me
and the stress escalates. It doesn’t matter if we are a few minutes late, I’m
paying for it anyway.
I rush, do
you rush? Why? What do we think is going to happen if we hurry up? My kids love
to be first. I’m not sure how it has been etched into their minds because we
have always tried to let them know that we all get there at the same time. It
doesn’t matter who crosses the line first. But…it does, doesn’t it? Second is
the first last place. That may be from a movie too. My daughter plays soccer.
Well, she chases the ball with a bunch of other kids. She plays for the YMCA
and we don’t keep score. Uh, excuse me; I think we all know which team scores
more. It seems important to us. Being first seems to be important.
I think that
we are just rushing through life, marking the places (first, second, third). I
wonder if we are just going to get to the end of our life here and say, “Boy,
where did the time go.” I don’t want to do that. Oh sure, some live life to the
fullest, whatever that means. Some have bucket lists. I am guilty of that. Why?
What makes me think that here in this life is the only place I can do those
things?
So, I think
I need to tump my bucket over and focus on living each day. (Just so you know,
I believe tump is a word that has just not hit mainstream vocabulary yet).
During the past year, I have watched the clock. I stopped time, so to speak,
for my life. My focus was on the clock my mom was carrying. That clock has
stopped. Mine is still going. Amazing how life works. I stopped living for me.
That is my biggest problem. Time is ticking in my life and I am watching the
clock. I need to stop watching, simplify and start living. Yesterday my kids
were being born; today they are in school and learning to write. I’m missing it
because I focus on the tick-tock.
People with
pancreatic cancer are watching the clock. Their families are watching it as
well. What will happen tomorrow, what will happen next week? How much time do
they have? We don’t have the insight to know any of that. Their time is ticking
and they are running out of it. If we don’t do something, if we don’t raise
more awareness, more money for research, more people will be watching their
time slip away. I wish I could explain, I mean really explain, how not donating
is actually hurting people. I wish I could really paint a picture of what my
mom went through. I have tried, but if it had been spot on then your heart
would be breaking and you couldn’t get to your wallet fast enough. Time is
running out for so many families. They hear the tick-tock. If we can raise
enough money, get enough research done, then that clock won’t be as important
to them. I am in a hurry to find a cure; I am in a hurry to make a difference.
The clock is ticking.
Personally,
I am going to stop looking at the clock. I’ve watched it too long. Who cares if
we aren’t on time? What matters is did we enjoy our ride?
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