Later better than never

I didn’t check how old Tjaard was turning last Monday, but the day that followed the move to level 4 lockdown was his birthday. It so happened that he was also attending a virtual meeting that I was on that began with everyone wishing him the best for the year ahead. I don’t recall who, but someone asked him if he was doing anything to celebrate the day. And he answered that as we had just moved to higher restrictions, he would wait until later to celebrate it.

It’s often the smallest comments that have the most impact – for me, in any event. And although the discussion moved on to the agenda, I was left with the feeling that I needed to go back to his statement. Because, in many respects, it has been 18 months of “there will be another time to”.

Tjaard is being responsible and doing what we all should be doing and have been doing since March 2020. In my world, we have celebrated our 30th anniversary without going away or getting together with family and friends. The birth and subsequent naming of our granddaughter, Chloe, went by with the words, “There will be time to celebrate.” So, too, was the engagement of our son in December, a few days ahead of beaches closing, where a limited few dropped past at designated times so as not to be there together.

It’s not just the good things that have been altered. My father’s passing in October last year, the funeral that followed, and subsequent mourning period became a choreographed affair. We monitored who would attend physically or join by Zoom, who visited the house, that they were COVID-19 compliant, and where they sat.

There would be time, we thought, for a different type of mourning later. And so, it was added to the list. My ability to recite kaddish has been delayed by the closing of shuls. Hopefully, I will be able to do it again as soon as they open. Later. In the interim, the 11 crucial months when I am able to do so, passes by.

Holidays not taken, birthdays, school concerts, matric farewells, prize giving, anniversaries, Barmitzvahs and Batmitzvahs, work celebrations, and a simple evening or meal with friends we haven’t seen. All added to the list under the heading, “There will be time to do that later.” The visiting of children in other countries and children from other countries visiting us, all delayed to a later date. When there will be time.

But here’s the thing. As important as it is to be honest with each other, it’s important to be honest with ourselves. As vital as it is to be true to our word to our children and spouses and friends, it’s as crucial to honour ourselves. Meaning, if we intend to celebrate later, then we are obliged to do so.

This is the plan. From now onwards, if we say that there will be time, then we need to make sure to make the time. We need to write a “there will be time list”, so that we don’t forget. Also, we need to believe that the time will, indeed, come when we will be able to celebrate, mourn, and live the hell out of every experience that we might have missed. I just hope that Tjaard remembers to include me in whatever he does. Later.