IF I HAD MY LIFE TO LIVE OVER
by Irma Bombeck
(written after she discovered she was dying from cancer)
IF I HAD MY LIVE TO LIVE OVER
I would have gone to bed when I was sick instead of pretending the earth would go into a holding pattern if I weren't there for the day.
I would have burned the pink candle sculpted like a rose before it melted in storage.
I would have talked less and listened more.
I would have invited friends over to dinner even if the carpet was stained or the sofa faded.
I would have eaten the popcorn in the "good" living room and worried much less about the dirt when someone wanted to light a fire in the fireplace.
I would have taken the time to listen to my grandfather ramble about his youth.
I would have shared more of the responsibility carried by my husband.
I would never have insisted the car windows be rolled up on a summer day because my hair had just been teased and sprayed.
I would have sat on the lawn with my children and not worried about grass stains.
I would have cried and laughed less while watching television and more while watching life.
I would never have bought anything just because it was practical, wouldn't show soil or was guaranteed to last a lifetime.
Instead of wishing away nine months of pregnancy, I'd have cherished every moment and realized that the wonderment growing inside me was the only chance in life to assist God in a miracle.
When my kids kissed me impetuously I would never have said, "Later, Now go get washed up for dinner."
There would have been more "I love you's"
More, "I'm sorry's".
But mostly given another shot at life, I would seize every minute...look at it and really see it.....live it.....and never give it back.
Stop sweating the small stuff.
Don't worry about who doesn't like you,
who has more, or who's doing what
Instead let's cherish the relationships we have with those who do love us.
Let's think about what God HAS blessed us with.
And what we are doing each day to promote ourselves mentally,
physically, emotionally, as well as spiritually.
Life is too short to let it pass you by.
We only have one shot at this and then it's gone.
I hope you all have a blessed day.
...............Irma Bombeck.
Monday, April 15, 2002
World events have left me feeling like the little sparrow who swallowed her song. I am currently devastated by the atrocities and man's inhumanity to man that I am informed of by news reporters.
I will find my voice.....and when I do I will let it be heard.
Today my friend Dusty in Maine, U.S.A. sent me a most touching poem. My thanks to him for sharing it and I am privileged to share it with you.
THE FIRE
The rubble makes perfect stones under feet to Throw
Running from the water guns, gas and rubber Bullets
The fire burns, the hate strong for those I don't Know
They say I'm the evil one, like those who blow up Jets
The foreign soldiers who tease and taunt, and Watch
Carrying their weapons, scowling, nervous, Pushing
Neighbours and family along the streets, we Latch
Our doors, to no avail, they crash in using Ramming
Logs in the night, screaming orders at frightened Mothers
And fathers with no weapons, pointing their guns at Children
I play with my friends, boys who soon will be men, Brothers
Now just children like me, who remember, I'm only Ten.
......by Dusty
