If I Could Save Time In A Bottle

The question on the table was “If you could relive any moment in time, which would it be and how would you live it differently.”  I was at a Toastmaster meeting and we had reached the table topics portion of the gathering.  That’s when members are given a question to ponder and they take turns responding.

But I couldn’t speak.  I could barely breath.  And my eyes were turning red.  Because I knew the answer to that question.  I had thought about it a million times.  The moment in time I have wanted to relive has been burned in my brain for over eighteen years.

It was a humid Sunday afternoon in July and I was getting ready to go back to Philly.  Nana was standing on her front porch.  She was wearing a blue cotton dress and sensible black shoes.  She was holding a pair of gardening shears in her left hand and waiving goodbye to me with the other.  She was smiling.

I had just completed my second year of law school and I was making big plans for my future.  I had important things on my mind. I had important things to do.  I had an important life.

Despite my important schedule, I had taken the weekend to drive up north and visit my family.  I arrived at my parent’s house on Friday evening.  I breezed into the house, hugged Mom and kissed Dad.  I rushed up to my old room, dropped my bag on the bed and rushed out the door.   My sister Tina and I were going out to a local club to listen to a local band.  It seemed so important at the time.

The following day I had even more important things on my plate.  There was a sale at the mall.  I needed new shoes.  And, maybe a pair of shorts.  Hey, fifty percent off.   This is, after all, important stuff.

After shopping, I spent the afternoon sunning myself on the deck by Mom and Dad’s pool.  I drank a couple of beers.  I ate some pretzels.  I took a nap.  I worked on my tan lines.  Mmmm….I was having a very important and very lazy day.

That night I went to a movie.  Or maybe it was another bar.  I don’t remember.  Whatever it was, I am sure it was a very important thing to do. 

It was Sunday morning before I realized that I had not visited Nana yet.  That’s OK, I told myself, I’ll stop in to see her before I head back to Philly.  

It took me until almost noon to drag my butt out of bed, shower and pack my bag.  I’d better get moving or risk getting stuck in afternoon traffic on the Schuylkill I thought. 

I parked my car in front of Nana’s house.  Nana was in the yard tending her tomatoes.  She smiled at me when I walked up to her.  “When did you get home?” She asked.

“Oh, well.” I paused.  “Actually, I came in Friday night.”

“Well, how about coming in for some lunch.”  She said.

“I need to get on the road.” I said.  “I just popped in for a minute.”

“Well how about I take a break and we get a glass of juice.”  Nana offered.  I was in a hurry but I agreed.

Nana walked with me to her front porch.  While she rested on the swing, I went into the kitchen and poured us each a glass of her homemade iced tea.  Then we sat together on the green porch swing watching the birds flutter through the neighbors trees and chatting.

Nana pointed to the house across the street.  “Look how they let their grass grow so high. It didn’t use to look like that.” Nana sighed.  Her best friend, who had lived across the street from her for thirty years, had passed away and the new neighbors weren’t living up to Nana’s expectations.

I changed the subject.  “How are the Phillies doing?” I asked. 

Nana shook her head.  Nana hated sports.  They were silly and a waste of time.  Except baseball.  Nana loved baseball.  And she especially loved the Phillies.  But this year wasn’t turning out so good for her team.  “They probably won’t make it to the playoffs.” She said.

After a few minutes I finished my ice tea.  “I guess I’d better get going.”  After all, I had a lot of important things left to do.

I hugged Nana and hopped into my car.  As I backed out of her driveway, I saw her standing there waving and smiling.  Next time, I’ll spend more time with her, I promised myself.

But there wasn’t a next time.  Nana passed away a week later.

The question on the table was “If you could relive any moment in time, which would it be and how would you live it differently.” 

If I could relive any moment in time, it would be a Sunday afternoon in July in the summer of 92.  What would I do differently, I would spend the entire afternoon sitting on Nana’s porch, drinking iced tea and talking about the Phillies. And I would forget about every other important thing I thought I needed to do.