Today would have been my husband’s 67th birthday.  Rob passed away at the very young age of 36, and as I reflect back over our years together, I am reminded of many things but the one thing I regret the most is my lack of patience over things while he was on this earth.

All through his diagnosis of cardiomyopathy and his eventual heart transplant, I was impatient; Impatient with the healthcare system, with the treatments and everything in between. “I can’t wait until you can go home; I can’t wait until you feel better; I can’t wait until they find a heart for you.” I think I did this as a defense mechanism because I did not want think about the reality of the current situation and wanted to move forward as quickly as possible, but in the process, I believe I lost more than I gained.

Before Rob’s illness, I remember us doing the same thing in our normal life. Wishing away the present moment for the enticing view of the future was commonplace for us. We couldn’t wait until the kids were out of diapers, until the car was paid off, until…until…until.  The irony of it all is that it takes reflecting back over time to see that the future we yearned for back then is now and we would give anything to be able to go back and just live in that present moment and not wish it away.

Many of life’s lessons are given to us through nature. I remember a simple tree in our back yard that was there when we bought our house. I never paid much attention to it until years later when I thought a miracle had occurred.  I got up one morning and was astonished when I looked out the window. This plain but loyal tree that had just stood inconspicuously at attention watching over my garden for so many years suddenly had big beautiful flowers on every branch and limb! It unexpectedly became the most beautiful thing I had ever seen, like Cinderella in the fairy tale! I called my family and neighbors; I was in awe. I even thought it might be a sign from Rob.

The following day a friend came over to assess my tree and brought me back to reality. She said it was a tulip tree and that the truth was that they do not bloom until they are about 15 or more years old. This was not a miracle, just nature at its best. “It doesn’t begin to bud until the time is right,” she explained. “When it has matured and all the factors are in place for it to begin to bloom, it will.”  After we had a good laugh and I got over my disappointment, I decided I was glad I did not know the tree’s lifespan history. If I had, I would have looked every year hoping it would be the year to bloom and being disappointed when it didn’t; not enjoying the tree for what it was in the present time.

Bears actively hunt and quietly hibernate, the seasons change from warm to cold, the light of day and the dark of night alternates. There is a time and a place for everything and no wishing or impatient desire can change the sequence of life. If I knew then that Rob’s life would be cut so short, would I have wished away so many precious moments with him and just lived in the uncertain moment? I would hope I would have but I will never know.

The holiday season is in full bloom and people are hustling to accomplish shopping, cooking and wrapping gifts. I actually heard one individual say that she had to go to a counselor for help because the stress of the holidays was so overwhelming for her. At the same time, our religious communities celebrate the season of Advent which is a period of waiting and preparing for the arrival of a miracle. What a gift it would be to able to incorporate acceptance of waiting patiently for an unknown future and enjoying what is given in each moment into our daily lives. Joyce Meyer says, “Patience is not the ability to wait but how you act while you are waiting.”

This does not mean that we cannot have hopes and dreams for the future; it does however mean that we cannot always live in these end points but must try to patiently stay in the moment. If we are always wishing for the future, we miss so many gifts of the present. I think of me sitting anxiously next to Rob’s bedside and wondering if I had taken more time to just sit and be present, would my memories of those times be different? I cannot say for sure but all indications say yes. The outcome would not have changed but the road leading to it could have been different. If the tree in my yard had impatiently wished the blooms to grow earlier than the appropriate time, the flowers would have been weak and short lived and the beauty of it lost.

Rob has been gone 30 years and I have learned many things from him in life and death. Being able to live in the present moment is one of the difficult but important lessons I have realized.

Instead of frantically doing many things at once and devoting little attention to any of them, I now try concentrating on one thing and experiencing every aspect of that moment.

I have a habit of changing lanes several times as I drive to and from work if I think it will reduce my commute. Recently, I have been staying in one lane and not worrying about those extra minutes, but observing my surrounding. One evening while I was in a lane of stopped traffic, I discovered a scenic mural of many colors sprawled across one of the buildings that had obviously been there for quite awhile. It was delightful! “How could I have not noticed this before?” I asked myself but I already knew the answer. I was always so preoccupied with trying to weave through traffic that I missed a beautiful site right before my eyes.

Winter is the time for nature to become quiet and nourish the plants and trees deep within the earth for growth in the spring, and this season is an opportunity for us to do the same. Take moments when you can find them and just be. Don’t try to rush through them, but instead dwell in them. Living in the present moment is better than reflecting back with regret.

At the Heart of It All, this glorious thing called Life is filled with miracles if we take time to see them.