Savor the moments in your life
The last thing we did together was to watch the Nathan Lane/Robin Williams movie “Birdcage,” just the two of us alone at my aunt's house. My cousin had taken his mother to his place so my mom and I could spend an evening alone before I flew home the next day.
Ruth Marcus and Mildred Plotkin were two of three sisters, born in the 1920s. Eleanor Diamond, the youngest member of the triad remained in Michigan when her two older sisters and their families relocated to California in the 1960s. These two stayed within a 20-minute drive of each other, having together driven the road of life for over 70 years. Through five births, one divorce, several deaths, three bar mitzvahs, one bat mitzvah, eight weddings of their children (including second marriages) and countless holidays filled with matzo ball soup and tasteless chicken, they supported each other during the difficult times and celebrated during joyful ones. They could — in one moment — drive each other crazy, and within seconds defend each other against overwhelming odds.
“No one — NO ONE — messes with our family!” My mom emphatically reminded me many times, usually when she felt someone was taking advantage of me. Although basically peaceful, she was a tigress if she felt her family was being mistreated.
The time had now arrived for these two sisters to take together one last journey. Aunt Millie would be with her to the end. However, she too was facing some challenges and needed to build up strength for the upcoming trip. My presence in town allowed her at least for a night that freedom.
“How are you feeling, Mom?” I asked.
Sitting in the rocker, cradling a cup of hot tea, a quilted blanket on her legs and several vials of pills on the table next to her, she replied, “I'm still fine, honey. You don't need to ask me every few minutes. I promise to tell you if I need anything, all right?”
“Sure, Mom. I'm sorry. I just…”
I just what? To be brutally honest, I was really anxious with the whole dying thing, and checking in with her helped reassure me. I had never been in this position and felt woefully out of anything that might have even come close to a comfort zone.
Of course, my mother had never been in her position either. Yet, she
accepted it with grace. As if reading my mind, she said, “You know sweetie, in some ways, it's kind of exciting. I don't want to go, but I am curious. It's my last journey. Who knows what I'll learn?”
Pause. No reply from me.
Softly, “I'm OK, Scott. I really am. Don't worry.”
I stopped staring at my shoes and looked up. There she was, smiling through me with her trademarked piercing, I'm-proud-of-you-even-ifyou-don't-know-what-todo gaze; more concerned for me than for herself.
“Mom, can you stop staring? It's making me uncomfortable.”
“I just want to soak you in.”
“I know. But, can you soak me in while we do something else at the same time?”
“Of course, sweetie. Why don't we put on the movie?”
I pushed the play button and turned toward the screen. My mother continued drilling into my soul with her eyes.
“Aren't you going to watch?” I asked, trying to divert her attention. “You watch. I'll soak.” Said Carl Jung, “Life is a short pause between two great mysteries.”
Today, while the sun shines or gray skies cast muted, damp shadows, enjoy deeply and completely the fleeting time with friends and family. Rejoice even the minor day-today banalities that make up the passing of the time. Feel the warmth of the water on your hands as you wash dishes. Take note of how wonderful stretching feels when you first rise from the couch. Marvel at this miracle of a body that houses whomever and whatever we are.
Someday, each of us, and everyone we ever knew or will know, will be returned to the Mystery. Yet until that moment makes known itself, breathe deeply and savor the expansion of your lungs. Look for excuses to compliment. Make note of the small things. Remind someone how much you love them. Hug a few moments longer. Err on the side of compassion. Find an excuse to smile.
Last week marked 24 years since Ruth Marcus left this brief pause, called back to the Mystery. Sometimes, I still feel her gaze. It doesn't bother me in the slightest; quite the contrary, I miss it more than I can say.
Scott “Q” Marcus coaches individuals and consults with companies on how to implement and handle change. He is in the poignant dramedy “Potato Gumbo” at the EXIT Theater in Arcata through Feb. 18. More can be found at theexit.org.