Wednesday⌗

Time already moves so fast and the moments where it slows down are the moments when the phones come out. I took my grandma out to dinner on Wednesday. We talked about when she moved to Phoenix, Arizona from New York in 1968. She’s 94 now. She reminisced about the travel, the young kids, the time. She said that’s gone now, those days are passed, that she had a good life. She wants to spend more time with my mom. Why they don’t she doesn’t know, just letting a consistent stream of silly life things get in the way.

I said we still have good times, what about right now, me, your grandson, taking you out to a nice meal. She says its nice but her life is closing, she had a good life. I don’t even know what to say to that. I guess just close my mouth? I took her back to her apartment, and we solved a medium sudoku she had been struggling with.

After I was just stunned. I felt like someone had just punted something straight into my nuts. She’s at the end of the road. I will be too. You’re going to fucking die… are you doing enough? Should you be working on something else? Are you defining enough meaning? Am I successful for my age? Do I even want to get old? Am I keeping in touch with people? Am I hanging out too much? Should I watch less sports? Have I traveled enough? Can I never think a stupid fucking thought like this again and just do what I think is right and spend time and just exist???

Thursday⌗

The next morning I walked with my dad. I asked my dad about the plans he has for building a new house. He told me about how it was going and that they need to get moving because he’s not 50 anymore. He’s in his 70s. He took a longer route home. I walked back by myself, I cried. It was about a lot of things.

The weight of am I doing enough. The weight of comparison. Could I have done more this week? Can I please stop having these thoughts? Can I please just enjoy this window of time? Can I please continue to enjoy the time that I have? Can I please resolve to be a good son and grandson? “You don’t recognize the good times until they’re gone”… but I’m recognizing them, I am, I’m recognizing the shit out of them! Consider them recognized! I can’t stop recognizing them! I need to start living them.

Friday⌗

I went to dinner with my Aunt. We were talking and she told me about how she would sit and talk to people who were dying. She would go to a hospice facility and ask to sit with the patients who had no family. I said I couldn’t do that. She said it was a privilege to be there for someone in their last moments.

It’s a privilege to be there for others, it’s a privilege to take my grandmother to dinner, it’s a privilege to be able to go on a walk with my father. I can choose to grant myself these privileges or abhor them. I have the privilege to live in the “good times”.

Saturday⌗

My girlfriend, Ally, had a long conversation with her grandma. I was in another room doing the dishes. They chatted about keeping her health stable. At some point Ally got up and gave her a hug. Grandma: Are you leaving? Ally: No, I’m just telling you I love you.

Living in the “good times” comes with privilege and responsibility. The responsibility to own these little moments, to be able to tell someone you love them. That’s what makes them the good times.