ON BORROWED TIME

Every fall, toward the end of September I get this sense of urgency to do certain things one more time. One more trip to Okoboji or Vermillion or you name the coffee shop. And don’t forget top down cruising. Gotta take advantage of every single nice day and find an excuse, not that I ever need one, to go somewhere with the top down. All too soon it’s the last trip down Phillips Avenue in Sioux Falls, taking in the downtown vibe on our way to B&G Milky Way before it closes for the season.

The days slide into darkness ever more quickly as the month turns to October. When I switch the calendar to November, the specter of inevitable winter on the northern plains makes me want to take in every experience I can. Once in a while, when the temp creeps above 50 degrees, in an act of defiance I bundle up, turn the heat and fan to HIGH and take a top down cruise on the backroads for as long as I can stand it. Before the month disintegrates into the icy twilight feeling of living in a deep freeze for six months.

This year, thanks to el niño, I guess, our fall is lingering through December. We have no snow and above normal temps are forecasted to last beyond Christmas. Believe me, I’m grateful. Stumbling outside half asleep several times a night house training Lyle, our sweet, naughty, five pound bundle of Rat Terrier puppy is much easier with no snow and halfway decent temps.

Although this sense of urgency to do things one more time comes every fall, for me, this year in particular, the sense of being on borrowed time has taken on a decidedly melancholy tone. After losing several beloved friends over the last three years, coupled with the sudden loss this summer of Lucy, my constant canine companion of 14 years, the concept has become all too real.

Seeing other friends deal with life threatening health issues has given new meaning to the phrase, “no one is promised tomorrow.” And of course, not one of us knows how many tomorrows we have. This whole melancholy contemplation has led me to a realization as inevitable as the coming winter: Our entire lives are borrowed time, granted by a gracious Creator who alone knows the length of our days, from beginning to end. As a Christian, I stand firm in the knowledge that when I run out of tomorrows, I will return to my Creator.

Although that certainty changes my perspective to one of gratitude, I can’t say it lessens the sense of urgency. And maybe, thanks to the crazy events of the last several years, the sadness will always be there. I believe it’s best to focus on what I’m thankful for each day and live it as though it could be my last. Because one day it will be.

And by the way, everyone – cherish each and every one of your blessings and have a wonderful and super MERRY CHRISTMAS!