I seem to measure my life in moments, rather than time. I do not disregard time, but try to make as many memorable moments in what time I have. Ever since I can remember, I have been this way.
Moments are ever so precious to me.
This has posed many problems however, mostly with myself. For if I miss a moment, that I felt should have happened, and I should have been a part of it, I feel mad, angry, upset, guilty, remorseful, ashamed and embarrassed.
I can clearly remember being small child on summer vacation from elementary school. I had slept in, as was the job description for summer vaca. I woke up, the sun was well on its way climbing up the summer sky. I crawled slowly out of bed to look out my window. There I see down the way is my mom and dad, walking from the garden. From? The gears in my head started to turn. That means they had already visited the garden, without ME! Why hadn't my parents waited until I awoke? The moment for early morning garden visiting had vanished, and I was NOT apart of it. That moment. That possible moment of little me, walking between my parents, or perhaps I was running ahead of them with excitement, or the possibility of me exploring my surrounding under my parents gaze. Whatever the moment. It was gone. Never to be had again. I was so upset that I hadn't been invited on this stroll, that I was upset, crying and (now this part is a bit hazy) sure to be a full on brat upon my parents return to the house.
The funny part is: My parents and I have taken HUNDREDS of walks together down the the garden. This was not a rare opportunity. And I'm certain, that wasn't the first walk I had missed.
My parents probably returned to the house, confused as to why their daughter is screaming at them, with a mixture of tears and snot flowing down her face. They didn't know why I was upset, or how I could be upset. And it wasn't their fault I was upset. It was mine. It was my own personal battle of moments, and I had lost one. One less moment to store in my 'moment collection'. One less jar of moments to put on the shelf.
...Last night, and the first few minutes of the early morning, I was mad. Angry. Upset. Then I felt guilty, remorseful, ashamed and embarrassed.
I came home with high spirits and expectations. I traded moments with my co workers, to spend moments with the boy and his brother and sister-in-law. Earlier I had brought a movie for the boy and I to watch, to share a moment together. It was a horror movie...Insidious. The boy loves horror, I do not, but I thought I would do something nice and watch what he wanted to watch. What a moment that would be. I come home, by then, everyone is sitting on the couch, casually conversing. I look to the TV to see the DVD on the title screen. In my head I think "It's a bit late to watch a movie, but great, we're all ready." In reality, they had already watched the movie and the DVD was just humming in the background of their conversation.
When I caught on, I really REALLY wanted to revert back to that childish little girl and just start crying and screaming. Instead I just sat on the couch in silence. The possible moment with the boy was gone. He had wasted it with others. That moment cannot be relived.
The boy knew I was upset. Our guests caught on, and awkwardly said their good byes. Silence seems to be the adult tantrum. The silent treatment.
The boy didn't think he was doing anything wrong. He didn't know I would be upset. He didn't know that in my head, I had planned for us to watch the movie for the first time together. It was my problem. My moment didn't happen.
I lay on the couch, the boy attended to his nightly routine. When finished, he came down the stairs, and sat by me. No words at first. The guilt set in. My foolishness was realized. We both apologized (more so me). We walked up to bed, I explained my feelings, and that was it.
Now the movie moment, still a somewhat sore subject, is a joke between us. I still secretly hold a grudge, knowing that I have another empty specimen for my 'moments collection', But I have to move on.
There are plenty more moments to be made.