Jergens Lotion in the original scent takes me right back to my childhood. I remember my mom liking that lotion.
Now whenever I put it on and smell the cherry almond, I think for a fleeting moment of the carefree aspects of my early childhood.
My cousin and I were talking recently about wanting to go through some boxes of stuff that was our maternal grandmother’s—old photos, letters and trinkets.
Our grandma died several years ago, and her tangible remnants of memories and life landed with me. I love old photos. What I discovered the few times I’ve already gone through the boxes, though, is some of the photos are quite old, and we don’t know who the people are.
We have quite a bit of documentation on my grandmother’s side of the family, but not so much on my grandfather’s side. He died when I was a toddler, and any relatives he had were ones who long ago also passed away or who didn’t have close contact with our family. We’re pretty clueless about any of the unmarked photos from his side of the family.
My cousin and I were saying how we wish we would have sat with our grandma when she was still alive and gone through every one of those photos.
Again, it all makes me think how fleeting life is—then and now. We often think of something being fleeting in hindsight. But it’s all fleeting right now, too.
I can’t tell you how often I wish that wasn’t the case, especially when it comes to the moments that overflow with connection, love and laughter. Some of those moments can be quite ordinary. And they can be gone before we know it.
I’ve never truly bought into the adage “live like you are dying” or “live as if this was the last day you had.” I get the sentiment behind it, but I think it all feels like a wildly hard stretch. Unless I indeed know that my death is imminent, it doesn’t seem like the kind of perspective I can conjure up on a whim.
And yes, I know we all are dying, but knowing something abstractly, even from a spiritual reality, doesn’t create the same kind of urgency that emergency rooms and terminal illnesses create.
All that being said, as I get older I am increasingly aware of what it means to be intentional, particularly with relationship.
I am much more conscientious now of being intentional with my husband, sons, family members and friends. I am much more intentional about being present in the moment, especially with the people who have wrecked my heart in a good way.
Do you recognize now what you won’t be able to get back later? We can’t perfectly live in that awareness, I know. But we can strive in that direction.
I want to love well. I hunger so much to love well. And I want to love intentionally. I want more triggers like the Jergens Lotion that remind my heart to savor the moments…you know, the ones that are fleeting.
Copyright 2020, Julie Sibert. Intimacy in Marriage Blog. Links may be monetized.
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One thought on “Do You Recognize Now What You Won’t Be Able to Get Back Later?”
Saw it a LONG time ago; still coming to terms and making peace with the fact it won’t change and I CAN’T get back what has been denied me all these years.
Most days I’m OK with it; other days not so much.
Other days I wish someone would drop piano on me from a 4th story window: