Counting The Minutes

I can’t stop thinking about time. The 11th of March will clock 28,382,400 minutes of my sixth-decade existence. 

How many of those were spent being purposeful? How many being generous? How many took my breath away?

When my mother passed away, I inherited all her possessions including jewelry and art. Yet the only things I treasure are her hand-written greeting cards to me. When I hold one, not only do I feel her touch but also her love. It’s measured in the minutes she took to source the perfect card and to carefully consider her words. When I hold these cards, I hold a bit of her life.

At her memorial, I asked friends to write a favorite memory or an impression that she had made on them on a postcard. Each year on her yahrzeit, I reread the cards. It makes my heart smile knowing how she positively affected so many lives.

Sadly, people leave us way too soon. It hit me at the last memorial service I attended that the stories are shared when the person who needs to hear them the most isn’t there.

As I look at my 54th birthday, I realize that I haven’t been able to measure the success of my minutes by anything tangible like a marriage or children. 

So, I turn to the words of Antoine de Saint-Exupery, “And now here is my secret, a very simple secret: It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.”

If anyone wonders what you give the gift girl, it’s your time to write to me. I treasure words. 

I always wish for hand-written birthday cards filled with thoughts about how I’ve made my minutes count. I want to see. I need to see.

But one cannot receive without giving. So, let’s exchange snail mail addresses!

Mine is Tesoro 416 N. Canon Dr.

Beverly Hills, CA 90210

There is no greater gift than letting people know that they are appreciated and no better way to spend your precious minutes than bringing joy to someone else.