My friend Zoe died on Sunday. She was 10, and she is irreplaceable. If you knew Zoe, you know exactly what I mean, and you’re one of the lucky ones. Tomorrow is Thanksgiving, and all I keep thinking about is how lucky I am that I got to spend some of the precious time Zoe had here in this world with her. The death of a child is a great teacher of the potential extravagance of time. The holiday season is particularly difficult for those that are grieving loved ones, and as I’m aging I’m learning more and more that in order to avoid being extravagant with my own time, I have to stop spending it on things and people who make me feel sad or unappreciated.
We live in a world where it’s beyond difficult to discern who will truly be there for us, and who just likes wishing us a happy birthday on Facebook. I know people who I would do anything for, and have done so much for in the past, and they have turned into some of my harshest critics. These people won’t get any “I’m thankful for you” messages from me this week and probably won’t see me this holiday season. Sorry, this relationship is too extravagant with my time. I’d rather spend the free moments I do have with people who don’t keep score when it comes to who visited who and with people who don’t only show up in my text messages when they need something: namely, my time.