'I
Hope You
Dance...
'
This
was
written
by an
83-year-old
woman to
her
friend.
*The
last
line
says it
all. *
Dear
Bertha,
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
them.
I'm
not
"saving"
anything;
we use
our 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
$28.49
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
husband
and
parents
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
God.
Life
may not
be the
party we
hoped
for, but
while we
are here
we might
as well
dance
