* Dinner for Two *
After 21 years of marriage, I have discovered a new way of
keeping alive the spark of love. A short time ago I started
going out with another woman. It was really my wife's idea.
"I know that you love her," she said one day, taking me by
surprise.
"But I love you," I protested.
"I know, but you also love her," she said.
The other woman that my wife wanted me to visit was my mother,
who has been a widow for 19 years, but the demands of my work
and my three children had made it possible to visit her only
occasionally. That night I called my mother to invite her to
go out for dinner and a movie.
"What's wrong, are you well?" she asked. My mother is the type
of woman who suspects that a late night call or a surprise
invitation is a sign of bad news.
"I thought that it would be nice to pass some time with you,"
I responded.
"Just the two of us?" She thought about it for a moment then
said, "I would like that very much."
That Friday, after work, as I drove over to pick her up I was
a bit nervous. When I arrived at her house, I noticed that she,
too, seemed to be nervous about our "date." She waited in the
doorway with her coat on.
She had curled her hair and was wearing the dress that she
had worn to celebrate her last wedding anniversary. She smiled
from a face that was as radiant as an angel's.
"I told my friends that I was going out with my son tonight
and they were impressed," she said, as she got into the car.
"They can't wait to hear about our date."
We went to a restaurant that, although not elegant, was very
nice and cozy. My mother took my arm as if she were the First
Lady. After we sat down, I had to read the menu for her
because her eyes could only read the large print. Half way
through the entree, I lifted my eyes and saw Mom sitting
there staring at me with a nostalgic smile was on her lips.
"It was I who used to have to read the menu to you when you
were small," she said.
"Then it's time that you relax and let me return the favor,"
I responded.
During the dinner we had an agreeable conversation. Nothing
extraordinary, just catching up on recent events of each
other's lives. We talked so much that we missed the movie.
As we arrived at her house later, she said:
"I'll go out with you again, but only if you let me invite
you."
I agreed.
"How was your dinner date?" asked my wife when I got home.
"Very nice," I replied. "Much more so than I could have
imagined."
A few days later my mother died of a massive heart attack.
It happened so suddenly that I didn't have a chance to do
anything more for her.
Two weeks later I received an envelope with a copy of a
restaurant receipt for two dinners paid in advance from the
same place mother and I had dined. An attached note said:
"I paid for this in advance because I was almost sure that I
couldn't be there but, nevertheless, I paid for two dinners,
one for you and the other for you wife. You will never know
what that night meant for me. I love you." Mom
At that moment I understood the importance of saying "I LOVE
YOU" while there was time, and giving our loved ones the time
thought that they deserve. Give them the time they deserve,
because these things should never be put off until "some other
time."
What Do You Value Most?
========================
A young man learns what's most important in life from the guy next door.
It had been some time since Jack had seen the old man.
College, girls, career, and life itself got in the way.
In fact, Jack moved clear across the country in pursuit of his dreams. There, in the rush
of his busy life, Jack had little time to think about the past and often no time to spend
with his wife and son.
He was working on his future, and nothing could stop him.
Over the phone, his mother told him, "Mr. Belser died last night. The funeral is
Wednesday." Memories flashed through his mind like an old newsreel as he sat quietly
remembering his childhood days.
"Jack, did you hear me?"
"Oh, sorry, Mom. Yes, I heard you. It's been so long since I thought of him. I'm
sorry, but I honestly thought he died years ago," Jack said.
"Well, he didn't forget you. Every time I saw him, he'd ask how you were doing. He'd
reminisce about the many days you spent over 'his side of the fence' as he put it,"
Mom told him.
"I loved that old house he lived in," Jack said.
"You know, Jack, after your father died, Mr. Belser stepped in to make sure you had a
man's influence in your life," she said.
"He's the one who taught me carpentry," he said. "I wouldn't be in this
business if it weren't for him. He spent a lot of time teaching me things he thought were
important.
Mom, I'll be there for the funeral," Jack said.
As busy as he was, he kept his word. Jack caught the next flight to his hometown.
Mr. Belser's funeral was small and uneventful. He had no children of his own, and most of
his relatives had passed away.
The night before he had to return home, Jack and his mom stopped by to see the old house
next door one more time.
Standing in the doorway, Jack paused for a moment. It was like crossing over into another
dimension, a leap through space and time.
The house was exactly as he remembered. Every step held memories. Every picture, every
piece of furniture...
Jack stopped suddenly.
"What's wrong, Jack?" his mom asked.
"The box is gone," he said.
"What box?" Mom asked.
"There was a small gold box that he kept locked on top of his desk. I must have asked
him a thousand times what was inside.
All he'd ever tell me was 'the thing I value most,'" Jack said.
It was gone. Everything about the house was exactly how Jack remembered it, except for the
box. He figured someone from the Belser family had taken it.
"Now I'll never know what was so valuable to him," Jack said.
"I better get some sleep. I have an early flight home, Mom."
It had been about two weeks since Mr. Belser died. Returning home from work one day Jack
discovered a note in his mailbox.
"Signature required on a package. No one at home. Please stop by the main post office
within the next three days," the note read.
Early the next day Jack retrieved the package.
The small box was old and looked like it had been mailed a hundred years ago.
The handwriting was difficult to read, but the return address caught his attention.
"Mr. Harold Belser" it read.
Jack took the box out to his car and ripped open the package.
There inside was the gold box and an envelope.
Jack's hands shook as he read the note inside.
"Upon my death, please forward this box and its contents to Jack Bennett.
It's the thing I valued most in my life." A small key was taped to the letter.
His heart racing, as tears filling his eyes, Jack carefully unlocked the box. There inside
he found a beautiful gold pocket watch. Running his fingers slowly over the finely etched
casing, he unlatched the cover.
Inside he found these words engraved:
"Jack, Thanks for your time! Harold Belser."
"The thing he valued most...was...my time."
Jack held the watch for a few minutes, then called his office and cleared his appointments
for the next two days.
"Why?" Janet, his assistant asked.
"I need some time to spend with my son," he said.
"Oh, by the way, Janet...thanks for your time!"
"Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take but by the moments that take
our breath away."
~Author Unknown~
Go see A beautiful Poem with words to "Live By"
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