Mrs. W came over to meet Elise shortly after her birth. She brought the most beautiful outfits- soft white organic cotton sleepers, a delicately embroidered ivory dress, and some other things that should be ten feet away from a baby.
These elegant pieces looked perfect, expertly wrapped and nestled in a box. Mrs. W must have known what I was thinking (that I would never put a newborn in white, there would be poop and barf all over them in minutes, who is going to see these beautiful clothes since we aren’t going anywhere because this baby needs to eat every two hours and I feel like my shirt is always off so we just sit on the couch topless and watch reruns).
She looked me in the eye and spoke with a firm voice. “Don’t save the good.”
She’s right.
The wedding china isn’t used for leftovers or pizza. There is a piece of jewelry, forever sitting in a box (because it’s only appropriate for a black tie event that you’ll go to on Saturday, the 5th of never). Our wedding memories are allowed out on the anniversary. The special handwritten note is tucked away. And that air hockey puck we may or may not have taken from the boardwalk arcade to remind us of someone? It’s in a drawer. Some drawer, maybe. Maybe?
My grandmother also subscribed to the same theory. Why wait? And, for what? For who?
We are worthy of the nice, even if it’s just us. Every day. And the people we surround ourselves with are most deserving of the good. It’s counterintuitive to let your children know what it feels like snuggle in the delicate quilt that has been passed down from generation to generation. But who better than them?
The extraordinary moments in life come without the foresight of knowing when they will happen. Don’t wait for the right moment, only to open the drawer of life and find that baby romper, two sizes too small, with the tags still on.