After seven years in Estes Park, where we were surrounded by ponderosa pines, we are again experiencing the joys of living among deciduous trees down here in the south Denver area.
We’ve had a beautiful fall and it’s been wonderful to walk along tree-lined streets and hear the crunch of the leaves underfoot. Reminds me of my childhood.
But now comes the part I dread. Raking up the leaves and stuffing them inside big black plastic bags.
Actually, I can’t do that job because my back has been acting up.
So it’s Bruce’s job. We have a leafblower/leafsucker machine. He goes every day and sucks about two or three bag-fulls of the orange leaves.
Then the next day, he has to start all over again.
One of the mundane things we all must face. Like doing dishes, cooking meals, cleaning the toilets, commuting to work.
Day after day after day.
Remember the movie “Click”?
The main character gets so sick of doing the same things every day that he finds a way to use a clicker to fast-forward past all the boring stuff. But then, before he knows it, his kids have grown up, his wife has gotten a divorce and remarried, and he realizes that he’s missed most of the truly valuable times in his life.
The little things, like massaging his wife’s back, listening to his children, spending average, ordinary minutes doing ordinary things.
The movie had a great message. Live in the now. Enjoy ordinary moments. Because years from now you’ll wish you could re-live those times.
There are times when I wish I could go back in time, just for one day, and re-live being a mom to my three kids. Just sitting at the dining room table, playing cards, or talking about school. Tucking them into bed. Reading them a story. Saturday morning pancakes. The Sunday rush to get ready for church.
Such wonderful moments. I was grateful for those times. But if I’d known how much I would miss those moments now, I think I would have savored them even more.
I hope you truly live in the now.
Most of us are in such a rush to more on to the next big exciting event in our lives.
Don’t “click” past the now.
Savor the “leaves.”