The sale of my late grandparents’ house completed yesterday and brought with it a sense of the end of an era. I’ve been thinking about them a lot lately and I miss them so much.
When I collated family memories to pull together my Grandma’s eulogy last year, it was wonderful to read about how she had touched people’s lives in so many ways. Although the specific recollections were different, the common thread was that she always had time for people. Time to take her children out exploring the sights of London. Time to cook wonderful food. Time to talk about anything and everything. Time to listen to grandchildren practising musical instruments. Time to ride a double decker bus just to be with my Grandpa.
She was always present.
I have realised to my shame that I am not following my Grandma’s example. I am terrible at being present. My mind is always all over the place. I’m listening (or not listening) to my children and checking Facebook at the same time. I’m reading the news on my phone when I should be watching my little one trying to walk. I’m scrolling through Twitter when I should be finding out about my husband’s day. I’m always fiddling with my phone and I hate it. It leaves me restless and unsatisfied and feeling bad about myself.
The horrible thing is, I feel too enmeshed in the modern technological world to know how to break free. Just delete your accounts! But I help to run a few different Facebook pages. Delete the apps! I’ve tried that – I just end up going in through the browser instead. Try a bit of self-control! If only it was that easy.
I was tempted to go completely cold turkey and start using an ancient Nokia again, but I realised that there were also (non-compulsive) things on my iPhone that I value, such as the Kindle app, maps and podcasts. Surely I don’t need to throw the baby out with the bath water?
So for starters I am planning to delete all the apps that I don’t need off my phone (I realise, of course, that “need” is highly subjective) and to challenge myself to only access these horrendous time- and energy-suckers on my laptop after my kids are in bed. I’m hoping that making them less accessible (no sneaking in through the browser on my phone either!) will put me in a happier “out of sight, out of mind” situation. I want to get my life back and get my use of technology back under control. I want to be present.
In the end, who could really ask for more than to be remembered as fondly as I remember my Grandma? Surely that is the ultimate accolade, not how many likes you get. I need to change my life, and really live it.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn’t everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?
— from The Summer Day, by Mary Oliver