If I could do it all again
By PAT WICK
© Another Day in the Country
"People say they wouldn't change a thing — but I would," the song plays on my radio. "If I had my life to live over again, I'd have done a lot of things different."
It's women's history month and someone sent me an e-mail honoring the comedian Erma Bombeck who lost her fight with cancer. One day, Erma sat down and wrote a list of things that she would do differently if she had her life to live over.
#1 on her list: "I would have gone to bed when I was sick instead of pretending the earth would go into a holding pattern if I weren't there for the day."
"I would have burned that pink candle sculpted like a rose before it melted in storage," she wrote. "I would have invited friends over for dinner even if the carpet was stained and the sofa faded."
"I would have taken time to listen to grandfather ramble about his youth." And the list goes on.
I read through the list and thankfully, joyfully, jubilantly realized — especially since I'd come to live in the country — I was doing all the things on her list and more!
We used to play this little game — I think I've told you about it — on our birthdays. One of us at the table would ask, "If you had six months to live, what would you do?" Top on my list was always, "Go to Ramona and fix up that little house on the main street!"
Several houses later, and living in Ramona, I still ask myself that question quite regularly. And the answer varies, depending upon the time of year.
One day it was, "I'd go to Branson, Mo. That's what I'd do in a heartbeat!" So we went!
Another time I said, "I'd write stories and call them "Another Day in the Country," So I did. And now I answer, "I'd publish those stories in a book." We're in the process.
When my kids were little, I vowed, "I'll play with my children and listen to them carefully." So I did. It became a habit and I still love listening to the kids in town. They report to me what they are doing and when their new puppies and kittens arrive and ask for help with school projects. I love it.
My list goes on: "I'll take a chance and tell you how I feel." So I do. "I'll talk to that stranger, listen to your story, paint that picture, lose weight, buy those boots, plant those exotic flowers that may not survive in Kansas, forgive everything — even whoever stole my camera." Done!
It has becomes a way of life — this living in the moment. Truly living! Not just going through the motions.
C'mon, take the risk of living in the moment! You know the greatest risk in life is not risking at all! People may think you're a little crazy. They'll wonder what weird idea you'll come up with next. But it's worth the risk, believe me! And it all starts with the decision to cherish the relationships we have with those we love even if they're a pain in the neck sometimes. And it continues on as we seize every moment and relish it whether it's painting ceilings or fertilizing the flowers that are springing up in the yard.
I've vowed to live every moment fully, to hug life wholeheartedly, to risk being close, to feel pain and pleasure and be grateful for every nuance.
What would I change? I'd have accepted this modus operandi when I was 30. It's another day in the country and I'm so grateful that on most days I feel that age, anyway.
