I' m still thinking about his words, and they' ve changed my life. I' m reading more and dusting less. I' m sitting on the deck and admiring the view without fussing2 about the weeds in the garden. I' m spending more time with my family and friends and less time in committee meetings. Whenever possible, life should be a pattern of experience to savor, not endure. I' m trying to recognize these moments now and cherish them.
I' m not "saving" anything; we use our good china and crystal for every special event—such as losing a pound, getting the sink unstopped, the first camellia3 blossom. I wear my good blazer to the market if I feel like it. My theory is if I look prosperous, I can shell out 28.49 for one small bag of groceries without wincing. I' m not saving my good perfume for special parties; clerks in hardware stores and tellers in banks have noses that function as well as my party-going friends' .
"Someday" and "one of these days" are losing their grip on my vocabulary. If it' s worth seeing or hearing or doing, I want to see and hear and do it now. I' m not sure what my sister would have done had she known that she wouldn' t be here for the tomorrow we all take for granted. I think she would have called family members and a few close friends. She might have called a few former friends to apologize and mend fences for past squabbles4. I like to think she would have gone out for a Chinese dinner, her favorite food. I' m guessing—I' ll never know.
It' s those little things left undone that would make me angry if I knew that my hours were limited. Angry because I put off seeing good friends whom I was going to get in touch with "someday". Angry because I hadn' t written certain letters that I intended to write — one of these days. Angry and sorry that I didn' t tell my husband and daughter often enough how much I truly love them.
I' m trying very hard not to put off, hold back, or save anything that would add laughter and luster to our lives.
And every morning when I open my eyes, I tell myself that it is special. Every day, every minute, every breath truly is... a gift from God.
妹夫打开妹妹书桌最底下的抽屉，拿出一个裹着纸片的小包。“这个，”他说，“不是一张纸片，而是一件女士内衣。”他弄掉纸片，把它递给我。这是一件精致的女士内衣，是用手工缝制的丝制品，整齐地镶着蛛网似的花边。衣服上甚至还钉着数额惊人的价格标签。“这是我和简第一次去纽约时买的，至少是八九年以前了，她从来没有穿过，一直在等一个特殊的场合。我想，现在该是时候了。”他从我的手上拿过内衣，把它和其他衣服一起摆到床上，我们要把它们带到殡仪馆。他的手在那柔软的面料上摩挲了一会儿，然后砰地关上抽屉，转过来对我说：“千万别珍藏什么东西去等待一个合适的机会，你活着的每一天都是一个机会。”
我牢记着这些话，帮着他和侄女处理这起因意外事故丧生后的葬礼和各种悲伤琐事。在我从妹妹居住的这个中西部小镇飞往加利福尼亚的飞机上，我还在回想着那些话语。我想着那些她从来没有见过、听过或者做过的事情，想着那些她经历过却没有意识到其独特性的事情。
现在我仍然还在思索他的话，这些话甚至改变了我的一生。我阅读更多的东西，少了很多迷惑。我坐在草地上欣赏风景，不再去担心花园的杂草。我花更多的时间陪伴家人和朋友，不再一味地参加无聊的会议。不论何时，生活应该是一种享受的过程，而不是忍受。我开始认识并珍视现在的每一时刻。
我不再珍藏任何东西，我用上好的瓷器和水晶器，庆贺每—件事——比如减掉了一磅体重，打通了堵塞的下水道，开放了第一朵茶花。只要我喜欢，我会穿上我漂亮的夹克衫去逛超市。我的逻辑是，如果我看上去够有钱，我会毫不犹豫地花28．49美元去买一小袋杂货。我不会珍藏我的名贵香水去等待一个特殊的晚会，商店职员和银行出纳员的鼻子跟我的舞友的鼻子有着同样的功能。
“总有一天”和“某一天”对我已经失去了意义。如果某件事值得去看、去听、去做，我会立刻去实行。我不知道，如果妹妹知道她不再拥有我们都认为理所当然会到来的明天时，她会怎么做。我想她会给家人和一些亲密的朋友打电话。她会打电话给以前的一些朋友，为曾经发生过的争论道歉或弥补关系。我想她会出去，到一家中餐厅，吃她最喜爱的食物。我只是猜想——永远都不会知道了。
如果时间紧迫，而我还有一些事情没有做完，我会愤怒不已，我会为不得不把准备去拜访的朋友推延到“某一天”而恼火，为曾经设想着的“总有一天”会写下来的词句而没有写下来而生气，为没有尽可能多地告诉我的丈夫和女儿我是多么爱他们而后悔和遗憾。
我尽最大的努力避免推迟、延误或保留那些能给我们的生活增添欢乐和色彩的东西。
每天早上，我睁开眼睛，告诉自己这是特殊的一天。每一天、每一分钟、每一次呼吸……都是上帝对我们的恩赐。
为金钱付出的代价
Life in A Violin Case
亚历山大·布洛奇/Alexander Bloch
In order to tell what I believe, I must briefly sketch something of my personal history.
The turning point of my life was my decision to give up a promising business career and study music. My parents, although sympathetic1, and sharing my love of music, disapproved of it as a profession. This was understandable in view of the family background. My grandfather had taught music for nearly forty years at Springhill College in Mobile and, though much beloved and respected in the community, earned barely enough to provide for his large family. My father often said it was only the hardheaded thriftiness2 of my grandmother that kept the wolf at bay. As a consequence of this example in the family, the very mention of music as a profession carried with it a picture of a precarious existence with uncertain financial rewards. My parents insisted upon college instead of a conservatory of music, and to college I went quite happily, as I remember, for although I loved my violin and spent most of my spare time practicing, I had many other interests.
Before my graduation from Columbia, the family met with severe financial reverses and I felt it my duty to leave college and take a job. Thus was I launched upon a business career―which I always think of as the wasted years.