When I was a little girl, probably six or seven years old, I received a beautiful chocolate bunny in my Easter basket.
I can still remember the foil. It was brightly colored, brilliant and almost mosaic-like. I thought it was stunning. I was so grateful to have received something so beautiful.
I wanted to eat the chocolate, but I didn’t want to ruin the wrapper. So I saved it. I liked being able to look at it, and I figured I could enjoy the chocolate later.
Several months passed before I finally told my mom I was ready to eat my bunny.
“Stephanie, it’s expired. I’m sure it’s molded under the foil.”
I remember being so sad. I had been so careful to preserve it that I’d missed the chance to enjoy it.
You would think that lesson would have stayed with me.
But before cancer, I was terrible about saving things for a special occasion. The good lotion. The fragrant perfume. Anything I considered a little too nice for an ordinary day.
I appreciated those things. I wanted to make them last. But somehow, “making them last” often meant barely using them at all.
And that habit can reach well beyond what’s sitting on the bathroom counter.
I’ll enjoy myself when this busy season is over.
When the work is finished.
When we reach the next goal.
When there’s more time.
There is always something we can put between ourselves and permission to enjoy our lives.
I recognize this mistake every week because I still catch myself making it. I can get so focused on what needs to happen next that I forget to enjoy what is happening now.
A pandemic, cancer, and ultimately my mom’s death have changed the way I think about what deserves to be called a special occasion.
Every day that we get to live is one.
I wish I could say I learned that once and never needed reminding. But I still have to tell myself to use the good things. Make the plans. Let an ordinary day be worthy of something I love.
There is nothing wrong with looking forward to what’s next. I do it all the time. I just don’t want to keep postponing the parts of life that are available to me today.
That little girl loved her chocolate bunny. She simply thought there would be plenty of time to enjoy it later.
I understand her. And I’m still learning from her.
Use the good lotion. Wear the perfume.
Today is a special occasion.
