Last week, I flew to Massachusetts to visit my 94-year-old grandmother in the hospital.
Let me tell you about this amazing woman.
Barbara, Auntie B, or Gramma to our grandchildren, was born in 1930 to first generation Newfoundlanders.
(No wonder I like the music of TheAlan DoyleThe (and TheBig SeaThe), it’s in my DNA!)
Gramma was a preschool teacher for 22 years and was an active member in her community throughout her life. She is one heck of a quilter and has helped launch many quilting initiatives over the years. He volunteers at the Council on Aging. He also often drives for Meals on Wheels, “delivering meals to the elderly” (as he calls it), which he did well into his 80s!
On past visits to Massachusetts, I stopped by Gramma’s for an afternoon, habitually checking my phone, often distracted by some unimportant thought task occupying my brain. I think I’ve known her all my life, I just thought “Gramma’s always here, and Gramma’s always been here.”
Fortunately, I came across an ancient Japanese concept that helped me recognize and correct this pattern. This has allowed all my recent visits to Gramma to be decidedly different.
Ichi-go Ichi-e Once-in-a-lifetime chance
There is a concept dating back to Japanese tea ceremonies in the 1600s called ichi-go ichi-e:
It translates to: “once, a meeting.”
It is a reminder for us to appreciate and embrace each unrepeatable moment in time. No matter how often we do something or see someone, this is it only time to actually happen in this way, in at this moment.
This concept can remind us to be more present.
- Instead of checking our phones, we can focus on the person or task in front of us.
- Instead of worrying about tomorrow or zoning out, we can be here today.
- Instead of going through the motions, we can be more deliberate in our behavior.
I’ve thought a lot about Japanese Zen philosophy over the past few years (Thesee my essay on Wabi-SabiThe), and this concept of ichi-go ichi-e also stuck with me.
Which brings me to my travels to visit Gramma this summer.
I stopped worrying about the future or thinking about the past, put my phone down, and just sat with him.
I treat every visit like it’s the one only time I get that contact.
I asked him about his childhood. I learned that he spent several summers living in a tent with no running water or electricity, while his father built their home with his own two hands. And how much is he? loved it.
He told me about his teenage years, including the time he left the house and got caught, and had to sit at the foot of his parents’ bed until the sun came up.
I learned more about my grandfather. She even shared photos of her wedding that I had never seen before:
He also found some pictures of us from the day!
This has been my favorite:
I moved back to Nashville last month, not sure when (or if) I would see him again.
It still feels different. I interacted with Gramma more deeply in a few visits than I probably have in the last 10 years combined.
Which brings me to this past week at the hospital.
Gramma Community
Last week, my brother and I drove every day to visit Gramma in the hospital.
And each day, a revolving door of visitors came out to see him:
His nephews. My uncle and father. My sister and mother (who just had surgery!). His grandchildren. His best friend’s son. Anne is his friend. Friends from the Council on Aging. Fellow quilters. People from his church.
At one point, there were 10 of us visiting at once, and it became quite a party.
I am in awe of this woman and how many lives she has touched.
If there’s one clear sign of a life well lived, it’s being surrounded by people who love you. Gramma was selfless most of her life, and I was amazed and inspired by how many people dropped everything to come and spend time with her, exchange stories and keep his company.
Despite the circumstances, he still has a great sense of humor:
The first time he opened his eyes and saw me, he smiled and said, “I remember another story!” He told me about the time he “borrowed” a car, even though he didn’t have a license yet, to drive through the streets of Boston to track down his girlfriend.
While on the phone with his 94-year-old brother-in-law, he asked “how are you, old geezer?”
When the doctor asked “do you feel better now?” he replied “better than ANYTHING!”
Spending time with Gramma and all the people from different parts of her life felt like the best possible use of my time. I love the community he has around him, and I’m always moved to tears by the love so many people have for him.
This point was further driven home by my Gramma’s hospital “neighbor”…
Live Intentionally
The hospital my Gramma stayed in was right next to Walden Pond, the very pond that Henry David Thoreau made famous in his book TheWaldenThe.
One day, after visiting Gramma, I walked quietly around it, watching the light of the setting sun dance on the trees.
(The Japanese also have a word for this, it’s called “komorebi”.)
Then I read the sign with Thoreau’s most famous reflection:
“I went to the woods because I wanted to live willingly, just to face the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and no, when I died, I would discover that I had not lived. .”
Thoreau retreated into solitude to discover what was most important to him.
Gramma went in a different direction, prioritizing what was most important to her: family, friends, and community.
Two different scenarios, same result:
Choose to live willingly.
I have no plans to move into the woods and live simply, but I think I’ve done my best to live more intentionally these past few years.
Specifically, re-prioritizing what is most important to me as well: friends, family, and community.
What We Have To Decide…
Years ago, Gramma showed my brother, sister, and me three of her favorite handmade quilts.
“I will give you the grandchildren after I pass away, but I want to give them to you now so that we can enjoy this moment together.”
She took the time to explain the meaning behind each quilt and why they were chosen for each of us. I’m so thankful that she did this, instead of waiting to hear about the beautiful quilts after she passed.
When I visited Gramma this summer, I discovered that she had printed my essay Theabout my grandfather, his wife, who diedThe. I wish I had made Grampy proud, but I realized that I never told him how much I learned from him before he died.
For that reason, I am writing this essay today to make sure he knows how much he has taught me. I’m so proud of my Gramma and I’m appreciative for having the opportunity to learn from her for 40 years (and counting!).
(I got a text from my dad yesterday letting me know that he read this draft to her in the hospital and she loved it. Mission accomplished!)
I sure hope Gramma gets better and comes home. After all, she tells her friend Laurie “I’m not done yet!”
But I also know that this is not our decision.
As Gandalf told Frodo The Joining Ring:
“All we have to decide is what to do with the time we’ve been given.”
I hope my Gramma and Thoreau inspire you to live more intentionally:
- If you’re ready to put down your phone and be present with the people in front of you, life feels richer.
- If you are willing to prioritize what really matters instead of things trying to steal your attention, you will never go wrong with the choices you make.
- If you find a way to focus on the important people in your lifethey will still be a part of it when you are 94.
And finally remember, whatever you do now, this is the only time this it will happen soon.
Act accordingly.
-Steve
PS: If you want a thought-provoking film about being present and Ichi-Go Ichi-E, I highly recommend Wim Wenders’s ThePerfect DaysThe.
