Time is all we have — Peach Street

Summary

The author reflects on the value of time in the face of personal loss and the COVID-19 pandemic, emphasizing the importance of cherishing and making the most of each moment.

Abstract

The article "Time is All We Have" delves into the author's introspection on the nature of time, prompted by the onset of the COVID-19 pandemic and the sudden death of their brother. Initially, the pandemic seemed to slow down time, offering an abundance of empty days that the author first sought to fill mindlessly. However, the unexpected loss of a sibling underscored the fragility and preciousness of time. The author shares the regret of not reaching out to their brother before his untimely passing, highlighting the lesson that opportunities to connect with loved ones should not be wasted. The experience has led to a profound appreciation for life's unpredictability and the necessity of embracing each day with gratitude and intention.

Opinions

The author believes that the phrase "to kill time" is a misnomer and that time should be valued, especially in light of the pandemic which has made the concept of time more nuanced.
The pandemic has altered the perception of time, initially slowing it down and leading to a desire to fill empty days, but eventually teaching the author to chase and relish every moment.
The daily death tolls from COVID-19 and the personal loss of the author's brother have made it difficult to avoid contemplating time and mortality.
The author asserts that time is a finite and unguaranteed resource, which should not be taken for granted or littered with worries.
There is a strong emphasis on seizing the day and not letting opportunities to connect with loved ones pass by, as the author regrets not reaching out to their brother before his death.
The author advocates for appreciating the ability to experience life, suggesting that each new day is an opportunity to find joy in the little things and live fully in honor of those who no longer can.

Time is All We Have

Most of us live through our lives losing track of time. The months and years can speed past us and all of a sudden you’re twenty-two and life is far more complex and overwhelming than it ever used to be, fraught with new responsibilities.

The phrase “to kill time” is an interesting one; I’ve been thinking about it a lot during the pandemic. In many ways, COVID-19 slowed downtime as I faced numerous, empty days before me. Literally overnight there were no more schedules, set routines, or regular customers to serve coffee to. It was all gone.

At the beginning of the pandemic, time was this nuanced, new thing. I had access to it without constraint: I would often find myself trying to “kill time” and whittle away the days. I’d spend hours scrolling on my phone, just because I could and there was no-one or nothing to stop me. I wanted each day to be over. But now, I’ve come to chase it down and relish every day. Time is all we have — but it is never guaranteed.

People say that when you’re young you shouldn’t litter your life with worries about time, missed opportunities, and the eventual path to death that catches us all. But it has been hard not to think along these lines in the middle of a pandemic where the daily death tolls from the virus have pervaded our feeds and wider lives.

Losing someone prematurely can also make us re-assess the value of time. It was the middle of February 2020. I was in a new job and had a disaster of a day at work. I’d knocked over the mop and sent dirty water flying across the floor just before we all went home. My colleague was trying to be nice because I was new, but I could see the frustration in her eyes. I felt the prickle of tears and helplessness as I stood there wracking my brain desperately to figure out how to help.

Before this disastrous incident, throughout the day I had numerous escapades with the new coffee machine I was trying to get to grips with. Like all new jobs, the prospect of it ever becoming “easy” seemed impossible. I thought I’d never be able to make the perfect latte, but soon this would be the least of my worries. On the commute home, I found myself in tears and wanted to hand my notice in there and then. I’m a perfectionist and hate being wrong at the first hurdle.

As I came through the door of my flat I burst into tears in front of my partner, explaining what a terrible day I had. But we soon cooked a nice dinner and I forgot about it all — for a brief moment. Later that evening, I looked at my phone to see a missed call, with a voicemail, from a number I didn’t recognise. I decided it must be important as they had left a message, and it didn’t look like a spam number.

After a short phone call from a near-stranger, I learnt that my 24-year-old brother had passed away.

My whole world came crashing down. My body felt heavy as my face collapsed into my phone, and I couldn’t keep the sobs and screams from coming out in front of this stranger, and at that moment, I didn’t know how my life was ever going to move forward. How I would put two feet in front of each other the next day and go about my life as normal? How do other people live their daily lives whilst saddled with grief and guilt?

Until this point, I was lucky enough to have never been, affected by death and as a result, I had never felt grief or knew what to do with it.

My brother packed so much into his short life but died way before his time. This would come back to haunt me in frequent bouts over the next few months. The thing that upsets me the most is that he should have had so much more time. Time to fully blossom, start a family, and walk me down the aisle on my wedding day. All moments he should have had and we should have shared. There were never enough of those. Suddenly, it was completely taken from him.

I’m still coming to terms with the loss of my brother and still don’t understand grief and death, but one thing is for sure, it’s taught me the value of time, in all senses.

A week before his death, I had thought about texting him and asking him if he’d like to meet up in London, where he lived and worked. But I refrained, as my anxiety told me he wouldn’t want to hear from me or want me to bother him. He was out there living his own life. Although I can’t punish myself for living with the regret — I should have taken that opportunity and I will forever wish I had.

Time can slip away from us without saying goodbye. We think we have it all but in an instant, it can be swept away from us. Part of the beauty of living this life is that we never know what’s around the corner, but we have to take advantage of every waking day.

So send that text, call that person you care about, and don’t listen to the voice inside your head that is stopping you. Seize every moment, as you never know when it could be gone.

In the months since my brother’s death — time has become more of a blessing. I purposefully wake up early nearly every day and appreciate that I am here and I can do so. I try to fill my days with doing things that I love, such as writing and find solace and comfort in the power of a good book, and realising that I am lucky enough to be here and experiencing the world.

I try not to let the sadness and grief take the best of me, and instead look to every day as a new opportunity to live and appreciate the little things that give me joy. And I know that my brother would want me to as well.