Erma Bombeck

I'm in the middle of six books that I don't have the brain power to finish.  Yesterday, someone asked me what time it was in France and I said, "It's 2:00 here, so 2 plus 8 is...."

My friends politely waited approximately forever before laughing and offering me the answer.  Ten.  Two plus eight is ten.  Phew.  That was a toughie.

So I'm impressed with myself that I was able to buckle down and read all the way to the end of a book last night, especially since it was midnight and I knew I would be woken up at 2:00 in the morning with messages from Golda and Ruby, since it would be.........10:00 AM where they are and they would want to check in.  If I had known when I was reading that Tziporah would invent her own time zone where people don't need sleep, and I would be up at 2:30 helping her look at pictures on my phone, I might have traded in some of my reading time for a nap.

But I'm sleep-averse when I should actually be sleeping that I cracked open another book when I had finished the first one.  I guess I was just inspired by Erma Bombeck.  I have always loved her.  (Thanks for lending me the book, Jennifer!)  I remember that Erma Bombeck died at a fairly young age (69), and that I was sad when she died.  I looked up her bio and found "If I Had My Life to Live Over."  It hit me hard because I already feel like I'm in the very best stage of my life, and it's going too quickly.  Even if I relish every second, my little ones will still grow up, and I'll be left, like Erma, wondering if I could have done it better.   I don't want that to happen.  

Today on the Diane Rehm show, the guest was Barry Manilow, the man who wrote and sang the soundtrack to my 17-year-old life, when I was falling in love with Scott.  Barry's music brought back all the intense feelings of missing Scott when I went to college.  It also reminded me that - hello! - I am living the life I always wanted, and it's better than I even thought it would be.  All that's really left for me to do is  look around and take it all in, and love it.  And never forget Erma's advice:

IF I HAD MY LIFE TO LIVE OVER

I would have talked less and listened more.

I would have invited friends over to dinner even if the carpet was stained and 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 rambling 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 burned the pink candle sculped like a rose before it melted 

in storage.

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 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 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, realising 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" and more "I'm sorry's"

. . . but mostly, given another shot at life, I would seize every minute . . . 

look at it and really see it . . . and never give it back.

― Erma Bombeck