Commodity

IMG_8656Merriam-Webster definition.  1. an economic good. 2.  something useful or valued.  3.  a good or service whose wide availability leads to smaller profit margins and diminishes the importance of factors (as brand name) other than price.

“What commodity is most important to you?”  I asked this of my hubby and eldest son.

Nate immediately inquired, “What’s a commodity?”

The last few days this has been on my mind.  The definition above was found after consulting the oracle (aka Google) and they both deliberated.  After some verbal questioning of where I was getting at (and not giving him any inclination) Dave responded;  his progeny (our kids) are his most prized commodity.  Nate decided technology was his.  What would he do without his computer, XBOX, Nook and iTouch?  The answer, for me, was crystal clear.  My most desired commodity is TIME.

I see the passage of time, most succinctly, when I am digitally scrapbooking after the holidays.  The kids are growing taller, my face is getting more wrinkles; the generations before me are aging.  I guess that is why I became interested in gerontology: the scientific study of the aging process.  I have a fascination with time.  I am hard pressed to not have a watch on my wrist and crave routine.  I prefer to be early to events.  I’m the person that wakes before the alarm rings each morning.  But it eludes me; time.  I never have enough of it so it is a precious commodity that I try not to waste.

Having a week wide open with no schedules; no to-do lists is mentally taxing.  Guilt lurks in the back of my consciousness.  As I read Where’d you go, Bernadette? into the wee hours of the morning I had to remind myself that I had no commitments.  It is okay to read and let things go.  You are deserving. LOL.  But at 4 AM I abruptly awoke in a sweat as my Christmas lights twinkled in my bedroom.  It’s almost the end of the month!  The end of the year!  I have bills to pay; laundry to do.  I need to organize my filing cabinets; add and delete items from our personal articles floater for our house insurance.  I have to hurry and get the Square Trade warranty before time runs out!!  I have lists to compile, reports to complete.  And did I mention that I want to organize and classify all my digital photographs from the last 12 years onto my external terrabyte hard drive?  Time is slipping away!

The schedule looms.  Organizing my time is arduous as I coordinate: errands, appointments, family and friends for the coming week.  Last week passed in a blink of an eyelash. Too much time is my economic good that leads to smaller profit margins (productivity) and diminishes the importance of brand name (how do you brand, time?) other than price.  I can’t buy time.  I wish I could.  But even if I could, would that make me more productive?  Would I squander a good thing?  Is the fountain of youth eternal?

I’m thinking way too much on this issue and procrastinating.  What would I rather be doing?  ABSOLUTELY NOTHING.  Did I enjoy the past week?  Absolutely.  The house was clean (at least when I cleaned it on December 24th) and Dave, nor I, cooked a meal after our baked good extravaganza on the 23rd.  We feasted with family, both the 24th and 25th, were given the gift of pancit and ate that the 26th.  Tamales from family were eaten the 27th, as well as popcorn at the movie theater, and yesterday we ate out.  But, alas!  Time has run out.  The both of us realized tonight we would actually have to cook a meal for our family; Dave’s prized progeny.

The sorrowful meoIMG_8480wing of our soon-to-be 16 y/o cat fills our home.  Our Shadow has rapidly lost weight, drools and has a weird smell.  Is this normal cat aging?  I think not and Dave and I petted her for an entire hour, last night, remembering January 1997; the day a furry, less than 6 week old kitten, came into our lives.   Only from dating her life did I truly remember the milestones Dave and I have shared together.

Tears came to our eyes as we recalled the day she fell into the toilet bowl in Meridian, MS; trying to get a drink of water as a kitten.  Dave hand fed her kibble each night.   A portrait taken in Virginia Beach, VA in 1998 by our dear friend, Laura Taylor, sits in a prominent place in our bedroom with a young Shadow between us.  That was our Christmas card that year.   In 2001 when I left an 11 month old Nate with my in-laws to meet my husband in Hong Kong for one week; Shadow sat and slept beneath his crib and meowed loudly if Nate cried or fussed.  Shadow has lived with: a ferret, Sputnik (a cat who has come and gone), Stormie (our current kitty) and three sons.  Holding our meowing cat in our arms; we sat and felt the last sands quickly falling into the hourglass.  We hope one of Shadow’s nine lives will kick in soon.

Tick-tock, tick-tock.  The clock keeps ticking.

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