Lost Saturday

I gave it away. No person or no thing ripped it from me. No, it was entirely voluntary. I gave away last Saturday. And it was not to a good cause.

Saturday is usually a favorite day of Americans. For most it is the first day after the past work week and the day the furthest from the next work week. But I guess that I did not need Saturday. I just slid it into the universal dumpster.

Where was I? Oh, I was here-sort of. What was I doing? I was doing the usual stuff.

I spent a good chunk of the day taxiing my son around to his activities. Can you here the sense of obligation and being used in the word “taxiing?” That is how I felt. I usually look forward to spending this time together with my son, but not on Saturday. I was angry the entire time and the anger had nothing to do with him. Sometimes it is easier to be full of anger than to be full of fear.

And Saturday was really about fear. I have some stuff going on in my life which raises a lot of fear. The details are unimportant. What is important is my reaction to the fear.

Saturday could have been a great day. I would spend some one-on-one time with my son, my daughter was visiting home from college and my wife was home - a formula for a wonderful day with the family.

But for it to be great, I have to show up. I have to have my body and mind present and fully involved in the interactions. This I could not do. My body was there, but fear and anger sent me rocketing off into the future and the past. I was everywhere but where I needed to be.

I missed so much. I was with the people whom I love and who love me, but I could not be present. I call this a serious loss.

I cannot afford this type of loss any more. I do not know whether or not it is an aging thing. I do know that all of my days are now precious. I used to spend most Saturdays like this last, lost one and I thought they were normal. But now I know better.

I have become selfish with my days.