What are we saving it for?

When I was a young girl, I would save the last few pieces of paper from a memo pad or a set of note cards or stationery. It wasn’t for future use. The remainder would stay in its purest state. I stored the pristine items in a box that held a lingering powdery bouquet from scented stationary that had been gifted to me along the way. I didn’t want the last of something that I cherished to disappear.

Paper wasn’t the only thing. There is an infamous story often retold in my family. Remember the time Yvette ate a ham and cheese sandwich from the local Dairy Treat into a tiny little round, refolded it into the waxy wrapper, and saved the rest for later? Okay, that’s a little gross.

As an adult I have different iterations of this habit. I am slow to break something in. I try to keep it new looking for as long as I can. I really enjoy how something looks and feels when it first comes into my possession. Maybe another reason why the sullying of my second favorite jacket hit me hard (see https://mysoulride.com/my-second-favorite-jacket/).  Poor Hank! Anyway…

I also leave tags on things. Not clothes. I am not that bad. But the tags on pillows, lamp cords, towels, furniture, etc. I even have a basket in my closet that I bought 10 years ago (which I do use) that still has the price tag on it. Tim teased me about this endlessly.

He also loved the story about how, when in college, I came out of a 10-day journey in the Okavango swamps with a handful of remaining Starbursts in my pocket. We were allotted small rations of food each day as we carried everything with us. Two Starbursts per day were a special treat. I would eat one and save one. Delayed gratification. That’s my superpower.

Tim was really good about breaking things in and using what he had. He didn’t buy something to simply look at it. And when it got a scratch or dent, or became worn, it seems like that was proof that it was loved.

He even used his Porsche Cayenne like a truck. One day we picked up two-by-fours from Lowe’s for a project at our cabin. We loaded them inside the Cayenne from back to front. There was just enough room, or so we thought. When we closed the tailgate the pressure of the lumber cracked the windshield from the inside. I was mortified. Tim was chill. He probably said, “it’s our truck.”

Recently, while taking care of Tim’s watches, keeping them wound, spinning in their box, and taking them out for a “field trip,” the scratches on the outside band of his favorite watch caught my eye.

When we first met, Tim didn’t own a watch and had no interest in wearing one. I remember talking about it. I wondered how he didn’t have a time piece to keep him on schedule. This was before cell phones were an appendage and reminded us of everything we needed to do.

A few years later, Tim decided a watch seemed like a good idea. Of course, he went big and bought a Rolex. He eventually bought three more nice watches, but the Rolex was always his favorite and became his work horse. This is the one with all the scratches.

As I look at those scratches, this is what I see. From 2006, that Rolex was part of every meal he cooked, every patient he cared for, every flower and vegetable he tended in the garden, and every project at the cabin – building a waterfall, maintaining trails, cutting the pasture.  

The Rolex was there when he putted a golf ball, played his guitar, made Harry Potter potions for Leyla’s neighborhood playmates, carved a totem pole, or trimmed a bonsai.

That Rolex was also there for every hand he shook, every hug he gave, every pat on the back for a friend. That Rolex was there every time he held Hank in his lap.

The Rolex went to Italy, Germany, The Netherlands, The Czech Republic, Spain, Portugal, The Bahamas and all over the U.S.

I never heard Tim mention the scratches on his watch. And now I realize that each came with a story. They blend together to make a unique finish that doesn’t exist on any other watch. They are the soul of the watch. There is literally no other watch like it. It reminds me of the little scar on my leg from the stainless steel cut – how our scars become part of us and can make us even more beautiful (see https://mysoulride.com/scars-and-all/) It makes me think of all the experiences that we have in our lives and how they may show on our bodies. It reminds me of how we should just live. I mean really live. Every day. I mean, what are we saving it for?

On May 22, 2019 we supported Tim out of this life as he took his last breath. Sincere love and gratitude for the friends and family who came to show their love in those last few days and to those by his side sharing this sacred moment: Leyla (Tim’s greatest love), Monica, Bill, Tom, Bryan, Amy, Isabella, Judy and Chuck