Aunt Margarets china set was smashed today. For good.
It was her wedding chinathe full service for twelve. Farewell to the gilded edges and the neat little Made in England mark on the underside of every pieceall because Uncle Peter came tumbling down from the loft, box in tow.
Oh dear, Aunt Margaret said, sounding almost intrigued. But its fine china! As if fine china is immune to breakage.
Then, as the reality set in, she slumped into her armchair and called out, Nigel, fetch my tablets! She rang round everyone, even gave me a bell though I live miles away in Manchester, and mourned her youth, shattered into a thousand tiny bits on the carpet.
That set was a wedding gift from my parents twenty years ago. We never used it, kept it for the right occasion Some sort of odd china anniversaryI dont know. And now? Dads gone, Peter has a sprained ankle, my blood pressures through the roof. And would you believenot once did anyone use those plates. Never. Not a day.
Idiotic, really, she finished.
I couldnt help but stop and reflect: why do we save our best plates, our jewellery, and our happiest feelings for special occasions? Why keep scented candles hidden in drawers for that perfect night, or scold the little ones when they nab a sausage from the tray before the guests arrive? Why tuck away lovely earrings, or hold back tender words for Valentines Day?
How is today, this ordinary moment, any less worthy than the days we pine for? How can we be so sure well ever have time for those moments at all?
Most of the last phone calls from the top floors of the Twin Towers were confessions of love. Ordinary people, in their most desperate hour, left messages for their loved ones, saying what mattered most: I love you. It turns out, thats the thing were most desperate to say before the credits roll on our lives.
Reality, according to the Oxford, is the state of things as they actually exist, that fragile split-second between whats been and whats to come.
Why squirrel away joy for another day, or stash it away in the loft for sometime? Why not make the most of what would brighten our lives right now? Tomorrow isnt promised. All we truly own is today, no less dazzling than New Years Eve or Mothering Sunday.
So lets get a move on. Make amends. Go see the sea. Kick a ball about with your son, hug your daughter, buy your mum a bottle of Chanel No. 5not just for Christmas, but for every day. Lets read the book, try the oysters, watch that film and leave the washing up for a bit.
Im getting Aunt Margaret a new china set and planning a grand family dinner. And above alllets be quick to say I love you, before the credits start rolling.
If today taught me anything, its that lifes best bits arent waiting in a boxtheyre right here, right now, if only we dare to use them.
