solitude
01-16-2004, 02:15 AM
by Erma Bombeck, who later died of cancer
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 the pink candle sculpted
like a rose before it melted in storage.
I would have talked less and listened more.
I would have invited friends over to dinner
even if the carpet was stained or the sofa faded.
I would have eaten the popcorn in the 'good'
living room and worried much less about the
dirt when someone wanted
to light a fire in the fireplace.
I would have taken the time to listen to
my grandfather ramble about his youth.
I would never have insisted the car windows
be rolled up on a summer day because my hair
had just been teased and sprayed.
I would have sat on the lawn with my children
and not worried about grass stains.
I would have cried and laughed less while watching
television and more while watching life.
I would never have bought anything just because
it was practical, wouldn't show soil, or
was guaranteed to last a lifetime.
Instead of wishing away nine months of
pregnancy, I'd have cherished every
moment and realized that the wonderment
growing inside me was the only chance in
life to assist God in a miracle.
When my kids kissed me impetuously,
I would never have said,
"Later. Now go get washed up for dinner."
There would have been more "I love you's."
More "I'm sorry's."
But mostly, given another shot at life, I would seize
every minute, look at it and really see it ,
live it and never give it back.
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 the pink candle sculpted
like a rose before it melted in storage.
I would have talked less and listened more.
I would have invited friends over to dinner
even if the carpet was stained or the sofa faded.
I would have eaten the popcorn in the 'good'
living room and worried much less about the
dirt when someone wanted
to light a fire in the fireplace.
I would have taken the time to listen to
my grandfather ramble about his youth.
I would never have insisted the car windows
be rolled up on a summer day because my hair
had just been teased and sprayed.
I would have sat on the lawn with my children
and not worried about grass stains.
I would have cried and laughed less while watching
television and more while watching life.
I would never have bought anything just because
it was practical, wouldn't show soil, or
was guaranteed to last a lifetime.
Instead of wishing away nine months of
pregnancy, I'd have cherished every
moment and realized that the wonderment
growing inside me was the only chance in
life to assist God in a miracle.
When my kids kissed me impetuously,
I would never have said,
"Later. Now go get washed up for dinner."
There would have been more "I love you's."
More "I'm sorry's."
But mostly, given another shot at life, I would seize
every minute, look at it and really see it ,
live it and never give it back.