“You should have warned me so I could have been prepared,” my eldest sister, D, complains.
“Well, I thought it up just a couple of hours ago when in the shower,” I explained. I could see her eyes roll through my iPhone screen.
“I want to go get a donut now,” she says.
Beside me, my middle sister, G, and her husband, J, take a bite of their chocolate covered, cream filled donut. “Mmm…good,” G teases. I laugh.
I’d stayed in the shower too long that morning—I mean, who would want to get out of a hot shower when just “the list” adorned the day? — until I had the idea to buy a few Boston Cream donuts from Tim Hortons in remembrance of my dad who had passed away 6 years ago. My dad, legally blind from macular degeneration, had us sisters take him out from the seniors home whenever we visited, and drive him to Tim’s, so he could have his favourite donut, Boston Cream, and a large Tim’s coffee (double double).
I picked up three donuts from the drive-thru, texted my sister, who did not respond, drove by her empty driveway, figured G and J weren’t home, went to the over-priced grocery store, decided not to buy the $6 head of cauliflower, thought about heading home to the list, but turned back to G & J’s where the driveway was still empty, parked outside her house and called G.
“Where are you?” I ask.
“At home,” she says. “What are you doing driving around my house?”
“Why aren’t you answering your text?” I ask?
Since sister D lives four provinces east, I couldn’t bring her a donut, so we called her via Facetime.
Laughing with my sisters, producing other ideas to remember our brother, our sister ’n law, our mother, and others in our family who have passed away— it was a perfect way to spend a Sunday.
Sometimes the most productive days, the most energy reviving moments, are when we turn away from our list and tune into life.