The Other Side of “Someday”

Someday’s here. I figured that out just a few weeks ago when I was so sick with the flu. I took my grandma’s quilt out of a trunk and laid it on my bed. “Whoa,” I thought, “there’s no ‘someday’. This is it. Nothing and no one to save this for.” I really did think that. I remembered how, when I was sick as a child, my mom had put that quilt on my little girl bed to help me get well.

And…I could easily turn this into pop philosophy with, “But everyday is someday” and “Live each day as if it were your last” and “Sleep under grandma’s quilt NOW. Don’t wait until it’s too late” all that but it’s really not the point when you actually arrive at “someday.”

One side of Someday is the shadow, it is the place where you get a letter from your mother’s best and oldest friend. She is worried because she didn’t get a Christmas card. But you didn’t send a Christmas card because you haven’t gotten one from her in two years, and you really don’t want her son to have to write the note that says, “My mother passed away in 2014” or something like that. You’d spare him that because you grew up with him, and you’ve had to write that note yourself.

And you know, because it is already “someday” that the first thing you need to do is write her a letter and walk it to the Post Office immediately because today is someday.

The other side of Someday is the shimmer. You are in Zürich and you are about to meet the one and only other person in your life who shares your love for the history of the Canton Zürich, a person with whom you can have conversations you can’t have with anyone else. a smart, funny young guy with whom you shared one of the best days of your life — 11 years ago. He’s waiting for you in front of the Grossmünster which is PERFECT. As you get nearer, you see him smiling and your own grin is about to break your face. At the end of the evening his girlfriend says, “Don’t wait another 11 years to come back.” And you know you won’t wait because it’s already someday.


18 thoughts on “The Other Side of “Someday”

  1. Lovely write. Today is all we can be sure of, in fact the moment is all we can really be sure of…Thank you, love the quilt too.

    • Yeah, I’ve thought of that, but I don’t think that’s possible. For a good part of our life we’re necessarily working toward the future — raising kids, working toward promotions, planning our retirement all that — it’s part of who we are and the moments of our lives. “Someday” is a place in time just like reaching adolescence. It happens when it happens, if that makes sense.

  2. Hi Martha – long time – glad to see you are still here contributing to the blogs.

    I enjoyed this – there’s an energy to your words that grabs me. In a good way.

  3. Nothing like a good quilt. I’ve got one that’s over a hundred years old. And I’ve almost worn out an Amish quilt that I bought 10 years ago.

    • I think I have one that’s 85 years old, a crazy quilt made of fancy fabrics and backed with flour sacks. It’s one of my most prized possessions. It belonged to my Aunt Martha and when I was little, and my mom was in the hospital and my bro and I were staying with my Aunt Martha, I shared my aunt’s bed. I woke up early one morning under that quilt, next to my aunt (whom I loved very much) and I remember putting my arm over her and the quilt and going back to sleep. When I came here, that quilt traveled in the car with me and my first night in my house I had to sleep on the sofa and covered myself with that quilt. It’s a chain connecting my grandma, my aunt and me. ❤ It's warm in so many ways.

  4. These days, which are, of course, someday and also, the rainy day for which we saved or failed to save, there are shadows everywhere. More and more, they nag at the edges of my mind. Is Trump the last president i will see in my lifetime? Talk about not fair, that is the unfairest of all. And Garry’s friends are going away … a trickle and now feeling more like a flood. So much of my family is gone that the family that’s left can be counted on one hand. So can the remaining friends.

    I remind myself — this is what happens to ever generation of humans that has ever lived. And died. We try very hard to not really LIVE in the shadow. Shimmering is better.

    • Yep. The shadow is there whether we want it or not. Shimmering is a matter of both will and perception. I have two aunts remaining and the one I was closest to is now mentally confused. I have some cousins that I don’t know very well and a niece (I think, somewhere, a clueless shadow of 38, stupid cow). I dunno. As for Trump? I dunno about that, either. I’ve been watching (on FB) a 91 year old man who lives at the Veteran’s home in my town, attempt to explain why he, a Jew who fought in WW II, despises and fears Trump and NO ONE is getting it. Someone wrote, “Trump is pro-Israel!” and he wrote back, “Israel can take care of itself. It does. I’m worried about MY country.” I want to go pick him up and take him to dinner. I just might. He is definitely a shimmer. It’s not Trump so much as the stupidity that has risen to the surface of this foetid pond that makes me sad…

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