December 7, 1941: According to president Franklin Roosevelt, “A day that will live in infamy.”
September 11, 2001: For a generation that has only read about Pearl Harbor in history books, 9-11 is another day that will live in infamy.
January 20, 1996: This one didn’t make the news, but for Mrs. Sweetie and me, it is another day that will live in infamy.
That was the day life changed for us. Dreams died. Anxiety moved in next door. A chronic, progressive, incurable disease moved into our house. And history is separated by initials: before and after my Sweetie was diagnosed with MS.
Because we are partners in this journey, It was not her diagnosis. It was ours. It was our children’s. It is our ever-present traveling companion in life. Our grandchildren will never identify Sweetie apart from her motorized wheelchair.
And it has opened the door to amazing possibilities.
I hope that last sentence caused you pause and maybe even took you by surprise a little bit. I could—maybe even should—write a book on the lessons MS has taught us, but for now, I want to only mention one, because I was reminded of it just this morning.
We just had a first at our house. We had our oldest grandchild for a weekend. No parents present. Just a 3 1/2-year old with Grandpa and Sweetie’s undivided attention.
We had a blast! She did, too. After she went home last night, Sweetie asked me what was my favorite part of the weekend. I told her, without hesitation, that it was hearing, at least 100 times, “I love you, Grandpa.”
I can’t wait for the next time. And I can’t wait for the other two grand-blessings (and any subsequent ones) to get old enough for their solo visits to Grandpa and Sweetie’s. I’ve got some big plans for those little ones. I’m already dreaming of what it will look like.
But, here’s the important lesson that I remembered this morning: I don’t want to miss any of today’s little moments because I’m dreaming big dreams for someday.
I don’t want to miss any of today’s little moments because I’m dreaming big dreams for someday. Click To Tweet
My Granddaddy Pete worked in the oil field until he was well into his seventies. He always said that, when he retired, he and Grandmother would travel and do things they never had time to do while they were both working. But Grandmother died before he retired.
When Sweetie was diagnosed with MS, we made a decision about how we would approach life. We would make plans for the future, but we would not presume upon the future. So we established a new rule for living: Someday is today.
We will not wait until someday to enjoy life. We will not wait until someday to have fun and go places and do things. If we still get to do those things in “retirement” then we will have done them twice.
I would not wish a chronic illness on anyone. But I would wish for something that challenges your assumptions about the future. I would wish for something that would cause you to rely more fully on the grace of God. I would wish for something that reminds you that you can choose not to live as a victim of circumstances, but to understand how much your life—today, not just someday—matters to God.
What would that make possible?
