“Yesterday… All my troubles seemed so far away. Now it looks as though they’re here to stay. Oh I believe… in yesterday…”- Paul McCartney, from Yesterday
After a loved one dies, it’s not unusual to re-evaluate life. My husband’s grandfather died last week, which is part of the reason my posts have been so sporadically timed this last week and why I haven’t been very good about reading other A-Z bloggers. I’ve had a lot on my mind.
My husband’s family is from Poland, and my husband’s generation is the first one born here in the US. We found pictures from before his family immigrated, a treasure trove of black and white photos. In the pictures, people are gathered around with food and drink, laughing and having a good time. There are pictures of his grandparents doing simple things, like cooking and working in the garden. There are first day of school photos and photos from funerals. Later, there are sepia toned, faded and creased pictures of vacations and days at the beach.
I know that the past tends to take on a rose-colored look, and that the “good ol’ days” weren’t really as good as they seem in retrospect. But it made me wonder… what the heck am I doing with my life?
See, my husband and I are homebodies. That’s not bad, but looking at those photos, it struck me that maybe I’m going to look back one day when I’m stuck at home with aches and pains, bad night vision, and medical dietary restrictions, and wonder why I didn’t get out there and do more when I can.
When we’re young (and I think young these days is anything under 50), we always think we have more time. More time to vacation and more time to plan. I’ll get out of the house and do something tomorrow. Honest. I’ll exercise more and eat better. Tomorrow.
Tomorrow is an illusion. It’s not guaranteed to any of us. It’s good to make plans and to have dreams, but there’s a big difference between planning and procrastination, and maybe I need to start delineating that a little better.
Yesterday is great. It’s a wonderful reminder, and it’s wonderful to have memories. You can’t live there, but you can certainly visit.
Today is the important thing. Doing, seeing, laughing. My husband’s grandfather lived a full life. I don’t know how he felt about it, but it looks like he had nothing to regret. I wrote about regrets here a few weeks ago and thought that I had nothing to regret. Now that I’m re-evaluating, I wonder if the things I don’t regret now, I might in the future. It won’t kill me to experiment and try to get out of the house more and do more things. See what I think.
When we were children, we didn’t take naps by choice. We didn’t sit down. We didn’t rest. We ate cookies first and then ran off the excess sugar. Maybe I need to get back to those roots and see what happens.
Doree Weller 