The Best Is Now

In some respects I suppose you could consider my education limited by today’s standards. I was never exposed to Common Core, nor competitive testing in any form or shape. However, I was highly privileged to have the blessed Sisters of The Holy Cross who taught me in St. Paul the Apostle School for decades guide me into the world of literary magnificence.

If I close my eyes I can still hear Sister Angelita reading poetry every Thursday afternoon as fifty of us sat at our wooden desks and listened quietly. Some of her choices were never mine, yet the rhyme and cadence of the words still linger in my memory.

The Rime of the Ancient Mariner was probably my least favorite while the words of Robert Browning always comforted my soul. I loved the romance of this verse and even found the unusual and highly improbable marriage between the Poet and the far older Elizabeth Barrett inspirational.

It has taken me a lifetime to reconsider my opinion of his oft-quoted “The Best is Yet To Be,” line. As a matter of fact throughout the years, I have oft repeated this phrase to others. Now I realize while the words are lovely, consoling and soothing, they are inaccurate.

The best is not yet to be. Indeed not. The best is today; only now, and exactly what we have in each moment God grants us. I could credit my reevaluation to an epiphany, but that would be inaccurate. I suppose I realized it seven years ago when I said goodbye to my Beloved. It was a strange reaction that occurred weeks after his final journey when I started to clear out one of the cupboards and came across a wooden box of cutlery.

We had purchased the knives on one of our trips abroad, and since there were only four utensils decided to use them only when and if we had guests for steak dinners. We did exactly that, probably once or twice, and somehow or other, the box was eventually delegated into the back of a cupboard and forgotten.

I instantly realized we had made a mistake. The blades were far more efficient and superior to the older worn ones we had been using daily for years. Immediately, I discarded the weathered ones and replaced them with the ones purchased on our European trip.

Now I use one or two daily. Each time I take it out to slice an onion or sometimes just to see it sitting next to my dinner plate, I smile. I remember the fun we had that day shopping in a foreign market. I remember the sun shining down on his face as we walked together down the cobbled streets, and more importantly I remember the blessings we shared for 57 years.

And so while I will always savor the comfort of the romantic poetry of Mr. Browning and his beloved wife, I don’t think I will ever keep anything for “Good Wear” or a better day again. Life has taught me each moment we own is a day to remember. Every minute is a time to celebrate, and soon becomes a memory. The best we have is now, and I intend to try and always remember that. But of course,. I will still read The Sonnets From The Portuguese and find inspiration.