Don’t Waste Time

Usually it was Eric who would bring up the hard conversations, and I’d try to squirm out of them. Like when he’d say he was going to the attic to clean out his old books, photos, music and school stuff. I joked that he was working on the Melancholy Dispensation of his Possessions, since he was giving away guitars, albums and baseball cards to friends, and he didn’t deny it. Sometimes he’d look me in the eye and say, “When I’m gone you can…” and my heart would smash into my chest at whatever came next.

Thank goodness he was the brave one. I would be so much more messed up if we hadn’t discussed - or at least touched on - these things, if I was left to guess at how he felt and what he wanted (looking at you, memorial service booze and baseball field ashes). His goal was to talk about it before he couldn’t. As he wrote in his journals, “I want to do it while I can still think." Because cancer was coming for his brain.

It was terrifying for me to be open to these conversations, as that meant admitting Eric was declining. Which I wanted to pretend wasn’t happening, because I couldn’t imagine the future without him as my super-foxy poet (and vegetarian cook). But the future comes ready or not, so good on Eric for doing stuff while he could.

This brings me to another of his well-worn journal jottings: don’t waste time. He wrote notes to remind himself of it often. He didn’t mean casual time wasting, because trust me, we excelled at that. We’d lay in bed all morning and make up a ridiculous song, or spend hours texting each other naughty emojis to see who could make the other one laugh, or sit on the couch to read a poem (Neruda and EE Cummings and John Berryman were favorites).

He meant “don’t waste time" in a larger sense. Do the things you want sooner rather than later. Like your job is bothering you and you have the ability to retire, which isn’t super optimal but it’s doable? Don’t waste time. You want to travel to Tahiti? Don’t waste time. You want to go back to school? Don’t waste time. I guess it plays into the psychology of you regret the things you don’t do, not the ones you do. We lived pretty close to that (thanks to all of those reminder notes! And ever-hovering cancer - thanks cancer!).

No surprise Eric was not a fan of the bucket list, because that presumed a healthy future. So if you want to make him proud, get out your damn list and start checking off items now. Don’t waste time! Unless you are reading a poem, of course.

Don’t waste time… except if you’re drinking coffee. Why is a Jew drinking out of a Xmas mug?

Mr. Markowitz’s poem for the kids on the first day of school long ago.