Never Late - I'm Always On time

When people say or do something, please stop smugly saying, “Oh, you’re late,” as if being the first to be in the know, go somewhere, or try something new garners you some award or reward. And quite honestly, whether you realize it or not, it’s genuinely a condescending slick putdown towards the person, seeming as if you’re saying the person is slow or lame.

Everyone’s timing is and should be, based on their timetable in life. Everyone’s priorities or even focus should not and will not be the same. Being in the middle or even sometimes last isn’t always so bad. Sometimes it garners the best appreciation for whatever it is when it is received or happens. Sometimes – just sometimes, being in the middle or late means that you’ve allowed others to provide a fair assessment, experience all the growing pains, and work out all the kinks before you arrive on the scene to enjoy the best experience founded off the experiences from someone else's trial and error and hard work.

I’m slowly learning to stop being in such a rush. Honestly, when I rush to do something, experience something or discover something, I often end up dissatisfied because, within my anxiousness, I didn’t take my time in thoroughly vetting whatever it was to be sure it truly was meeting my wants and needs. Often my rushing is at the detriment of either money, time, or both spent.

But here, too, is my transparent moment for the week.

Over the past six years, I’ve been in so much fear. My paternal grandmother passed away at the very ripe old age of ninety-five. However, the last eight of her life were rough. Our family watched her wither away from Alzheimer’s. It is one of the saddest things to observe as someone who taught you EVERYTHING feminine about being a lady slowly gives way to someone who not only doesn’t recognize you but stares off into space, not even realizing that you are there. For years I dealt with the guilt of not going to see my grandmother very often those last years. She’d always been so petite and dainty at 4’10. She always sat cross-legged with her hands gently folded together in her lap. Pretty soft wrinkled hands with beautiful long nails she'd ask me to clip and polish. Extremely fine hair that she would have me wash, press, and curl. She always spoke so softly yet commanded such respect. She taught me how to drink coffee at like eight years old. She couldn’t drive, but she and I would catch the 16 Noble to downtown Atlanta to buy her expensive shoes at Thompson Boland Lee or her snazzy church suits and hats out of Rich’s and Kesslers. I was selfish. I couldn’t deal with seeing her that way. In the beginning, I’d crawl into bed beside her. Those last years, I’d only stop by occasionally, then leave, sit in my car, and collapse into tears. Alzheimer’s is one of my greatest fears as it is no longer an older person’s disease. It and dementia are now hitting us in our 40’s and 50’s. I’ve also learned in my talking about it with others, my girlfriends especially, that I am not alone. Fearing such a daunting disease is far more common than is openly discussed.

However, thankfully, I’ve come to realize that so much of what is going on with me and with others is simply a part of the aging process and very much reality. But it is, even more, overwhelming for my generation and those to come behind us because our minds are being overstimulated. We are constantly going here, going there. We are always strolling on social media, taking in the negativity, drama, celebrity gossip, and what’s new on TV, Netflix, Amazon Prime, and movies. We are constantly learning the new TikTok, the new hottest song, talking about what Kanye is doing, all of Herschel Walker’s business, talking about what is wrong with black men and women, divorce, child support, school shootings, the newest slang, quick to post our latest car, $6000 shoes, thirsting for likes, constantly checking to see who is watching our stories, wanting to be the first to try out the new and hottest spot where everyone goes to see and be seen. That fear of having Alzheimer’s has been brought on by only myself. Why? Because I need to slow down! I'm not losing my mind; I’m just wasting precious time on things that genuinely are unimportant. Life had begun to fly by me because of the anxiety that is now many of our way of life of feeling a need to always be in the know. To always be first. To not be lame and not have the scoop. You get caught up in it all and don’t realize that your vocabulary is shrinking because you mirror what’s around you. You no longer take your time to read a good book because you now let Audible do it for you, or you download it on your IPAD but can only focus for two pages because you get a notification of a comment on FB or IG. You MUST read it, then the next thing you know, you’re strolling, and you end up on social media for over an hour. I could go on, but I know this is long.

So, the gist of this post is that the first shall be last and that last shall be first. How is that? Because those who are last will learn how to prioritize their life and put THEMSELVES first. I plan to put myself FIRST over all the things that really and truly are not that important. I plan on “being late” to even more stuff than before. I’ll be late to experience the newest happening spot, so I won’t be the first to dodge the bullets. Late to watch the hottest new show so that when I watch it, I can experience it and take my time to process it and not feel rushed to finish, so I can run to be the first to post about it and be in the ‘know.’ But most of all, I have committed to saying NO more to others and YES, to myself so that I can figure out my path to happiness and not feel rushed to let outside influences and the latest trends dictate it for me. So, from now on, when someone says to me, “Oh girl, you are late,” – my response will be, “Maybe I am for what’s important to you. But for me, I’m right on time.”