Time passes slowly when I visit my mom. It’s impossible to rush. What takes 5 minutes, becomes 20 or 30. Sometimes I think she’s a bit like the Ents in Lord of The Rings. She’s been around long enough that an hour passes in a blink. Time isn’t currency to her; It’s meaningless. Nothing has higher value, than lingering over a cup of tea.
When I’m with her, I realize how different we view time. I feel impatient. Always rushed. Time is my most valuable commodity. I’m stingy calculating every minute. 30 minutes to get ready 10 for breakfast, 15 by the fire with the cat and my book, 20 to walk the dog, 12 to the office, 10 to open, 3 hours for emails. 2 hour appointment, 10 for lunch, 2 minutes for a bathroom, every minute accounted for. Treasured. Never enough minutes.
So I’m inwardly groaning when she offers me a cup of tea after helping her with errands and I make myself say yes. I know how much it means to her. 30 minutes I tell myself; Just 30 minutes.
I’m squirming on her couch cup in hand and she notices. She peers at me over the top of her glasses, evaluating. I make myself sip slower and look out the window at the rain coming down on her flowers. She always had the most beautiful flowers. I take a breath. Slow down Ursula, You can do this, I tell myself. Just sit.
My mother gets up to nuke another cup of tea and I decide to buy her and electric teapot, relieved to have a task, but in a couple clicks it’s done. I’m back to staring at the rain. It’s hard this sitting, so I pick up a book and leaf through pages while she piddles in the kitchen, taking her time. Breathe I remind myself again. You can do this, you can sit.
Happy Easter folks. I hope we all learn better to just sit. I’m thankful to my mom for the reminder.