I Watched Someone Die and It Permanently Changed How I Spend My Tuesdays
Not in a dramatic way. Not a sudden shift toward grand gestures or bucket list adventures. More quiet than that. More ordinary than that.
I was with someone in their last weeks once. Sat with the reality of a life ending in a very up close way that you cannot intellectualise your way out of when it is happening in front of you. And what struck me in those weeks was not the big things. Not the career or the achievements or the things that got listed later in the formal remembering.
It was the ordinary things the person mentioned. The tuesday afternoons that had felt like nothing at the time. The meals that were just meals. The conversations that nobody had documented because they did not seem remarkable enough to save. The regular, unremarkable accumulation of ordinary days that turned out to be what a life was actually made of.
I drove home after one of those visits and sat in my car for a while without going inside. Just sat there with the weight of how much of my own ordinary time i had been spending in a state of mild distraction, waiting for the meaningful moments to arrive instead of recognising that the tuesday afternoon was already it.
Life is not made of the peak experiences. Not primarily. It is made of the tuesdays. The regular dinners. The ordinary commutes. The unremarkable conversations with people you see so consistently you have stopped really seeing them.
I am not living every tuesday as if it were my last. That is not sustainable and it is also not what i mean. I just try now to actually be in the ordinary days more than i was before. To register them. To choose them with a little more intention.
The tuesdays are the life. They always were.
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