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Why do we insist on saving things for special occasions?
Let me re-phrase that.
Why do “I” insist on doing it?
Twenty years ago, when my husband
and I were in the process of getting married,
the expectation of newly engaged couples
was to register for fine china and fancy
crystal in order to receive them as wedding
gifts. In hindsight, there were certainly
more practical gifts for which we could
have registered. We barely had enough
cabinet space to accommodate our
mismatched combined everyday dishes
and assorted plastic “to-go” cups.
Friends and family were generous in
celebrating our union with dinner plates
and salad plates and bowls and cups and
saucers–all gilded and gold rimmed–
and none dishwasher safe.
When we built a home a decade later,
we boxed up all our gifted tableware–
some still yet to be unwrapped from its
original gift packaging–and we moved it
to its new address. To this day, while yet
another ten years has passed, they remain
mere articles of decoration–or hidden,
entirely, in a seldom-used china cabinet.
My china has become a metaphor for
my life. What am I saving it for?
It has always been my experience that
the purpose of fancy dinnerware is to mark
“special” occasions. I’ve realized, though,
as I’ve gotten older, that my definition of
“special” has changed.
My son is getting older. My husband
travels constantly for work. Special
occasions in our household have become
the everyday ones. The days when my
husband and son and I can sit down
together at the same table and eat and
laugh and talk, are special. The days when
we celebrate simple things like getting our
driver’s license, a win on the baseball field,
or an award at school–are all special.
And our clock is ticking . . .
Oftentimes, our neighborhood friends
will come to our house and gather around
the kitchen island and eat and drink and
howl laughing while sharing stories of their
jobs and their children and their lives–
and those times are special. And the fact
that they want to be there is special.
So when I consider that our special
occasions are the ones that involve the
people I love the most engaging in the
things that make me the most happy–
it makes me wish I had used that china
more often.
If you’re still reading this, stay with me...
What if we actually started to “use the
good china” every day? What if we used it
until every gilded edge on every piece had
been worn down to just a faint brassy haze?
If we are saving our very best, for the very
best, when will that be if not now?
At nearly 53-years old, I find myself in
a transition–a bit of a “new season.” And
I’m not even sure what triggered it. Maybe
preparing to write this story prompted it
as I’ve been thinking about it for quite
some time. But the truth is, I’d gotten lazy.
And because my family is moving at warp
speed, most often in completely opposite
directions, I found myself being alone
more often than not.
My day-to-day routine hadn’t required
much effort beyond getting up, brushing
my teeth, piling my hair on top of my head,
and taking my son to school–most often
in my pajamas. And because I work from
home, I can stay in my pajamas for a good
part of the day, and usually do.
But a year or two ago, I started noticing
that I was having a hard time remembering
things–simple things like being able to
recall someone’s name or a word that should
have, otherwise, come easily. I would go
to the grocery store and it would occur
to me, somewhere around the cereal aisle,
that I had absolutely no idea where I’d
parked my car.
So there I’d be, in a baggy sweatshirt
that covers my back-side, wearing yoga
pants as pants, without a stitch of make-up
on my face, hair piled high up on my head,
standing on aisle eleven and wondering not
only where I had parked my car–but what
had become of me? When did I lose, me?
It was a defining moment.
I had quit trying. And as a result, it
seemed my brain had quit trying, too.
I wasn’t “using the good china.”
Saving things and reserving the effort
for that “special something” or that
“perfect moment” is crazy. None of us
know what’s going to happen tomorrow.
And we certainly shouldn’t take our
moments for granted–because we
never know when we’ll be out of them.
So this new “season” I’ve entered
is actually a season of re-awakening.
Today is my special occasion.
What if we showed up for ourselves
every day? What if we showed up for the
people we care about most and made the
most of every single opportunity? What
if we pulled out the “good china,” showed
it off, and felt good doing it? Literally and
metaphorically.
When it comes to thankfulness, I can
think of no greater way of expressing it
than by using the good stuff. As they say,
wake up, dress up, and show up, right?
I’m still working on it. But now, while
I may still wear my yoga pants as pants,
don’t be surprised if you see me doing
my grocery shopping wearing bright red
lipstick, too. After all, I’m being intentional
about celebrating today.
As hard as it is for me to admit, and
in the grand scheme of things, today
may actually be one of the relatively few,
if not only one, I have left. Therefore,
it’s imperative that I give it all I’ve got.
So go ahead. Use the good china.
Life’s too short not to. Turn the ordinary
into something extraordinary, today. l
Hometown MADISON • 65