Seize The Moment

It's been a while since I posted a blog in here. I missed writing, but after some time not writing anything, I guess my brain became stagnant. Thus, I just want to share a very poignant story which I read from the net. It's a poignant reminder to some of us, especially me, to seize a moment, even if it's a trivial thing. Sometimes, we never know if that small decision alter our perspective of lives.

Maybe some of you have read the story, but I hope you don't mind me sharing it in here. The original title of the story was : A Taxi Driver Was About To Ditch His Customer - He Would've Regretted It For The Rest of His Life. 

I arrived at the address and honked the horn. After waiting a few minutes I honked again. Since this was going to be my last ride of my shift I thought about just driving away, but instead I put the car in park and walked up to the door and knocked.. ‘Just a minute’, answered a frail, elderly voice. I could hear something being dragged across the floor.

After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 90’s stood before me. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like somebody out of a 1940’s movie.

By her side was a small nylon suitcase. The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets.

There were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils on the counters. In the corner was a cardboard box filled with photos and glassware.

‘Would you carry my bag out to the car?’ she said. I took the suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman.

She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb.

She kept thanking me for my kindness. ‘It’s nothing’, I told her.. ‘I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother to be treated.’

‘Oh, you’re such a good boy,’ she said. When we got in the cab, she gave me an address and then asked, ‘Could you drive through downtown?’

‘It’s not the shortest way,’ I answered quickly..

‘Oh, I don’t mind,’ she said. ‘I’m in no hurry. I’m on my way to a hospice.’

I looked in the rear-view mirror. Her eyes were glistening. ‘I don’t have any family left,’ she continued in a soft voice..’The doctor says I don’t have very long.’ I quietly reached over and shut off the meter.

‘What route would you like me to take?’ I asked.

For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she had once worked as an elevator operator.

We drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when they were newlyweds She had me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl.

Sometimes she’d ask me to slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing.

As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said, ‘I’m tired. Let’s go now’.
We drove in silence to the address she had given me. It was a low building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway that passed under a portico.

Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up. They were solicitous and intent, watching her every move.
They must have been expecting her.

I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The woman was already seated in a wheelchair.

‘How much do I owe you?’ She asked, reaching into her purse.

‘Nothing,’ I said.

‘You have to make a living,’ she answered.

‘There are other passengers,’ I responded.

Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug. She held onto me tightly.

‘You gave an old woman a little moment of joy,’ she said. ‘Thank you.’

I squeezed her hand, and then walked into the dim morning light.. Behind me, a door shut. It was the sound of the closing of a life..

I didn’t pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove aimlessly lost in thought. For the rest of that day, I could hardly talk. What if that woman had gotten an angry driver, or one who was impatient to end his shift? What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked once, then driven away?

On a quick review, I don’t think that I have done anything more important in my life.

We’re conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments.

But great moments often catch us unaware – beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one.

 

[Source: Galactic Channelings]

http://idealist4ever.com/taxi-driver-ditch-customer-wouldve-regretted-rest-life/

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Comments

  • Dear Sewar, from your words I know you have a beautiful soul. :)

  •      Oh my god, what a lovely story. It lightened me to never refuse an opportunity to relieve others'

    tiredness, misery, sadness and suffering. No matter to who or how or where. Thanks my dearest for this meaningful story. 

  • Thank you for reading JET. Really appreciate it.

  • Hi Setareh, I guess most of us had burnt the energy and will too much while we were young. That's why when we were old, we had to face so many difficulties, like you said. Well, as for me, the world is for the young, I guess. The fast pace of the heart beat of the living is no longer relevant for the old. We just need to sit down and relax and enjoy our fruit of hard work. 

  • Dear Noa, It's so good to see your post again. What a nice story! it was new for me, so thanks for sharing. I don't know why when we are old and weak we have to face so many difficulties like getting sick or staying alone; i wonder if we should gather the strength for hard days while we are young. Anyway i wish you are doing great.

  • Dear Peppo, thanks for reading. I like that you said; "we could cry alone, but couldn't laugh alone". I think it's very easy to spread happiness all around. It's maybe just a small gesture like smiling to a total stranger, saying thank you or just opening the door. If we give more effort in instilling this positivity, the surrounding will be more vibrant and cheerful.

  • Dear Noa,. 

    Thanks for sharing this. All of us could be that taxi driver, at least once. I don't know why but seeing other's happiness is more satisfying than our effort to make ourselves happy. we could cry alone, but couldn't laugh alone. 

  • Thank you for reading it Jet. I really appreciate it.

  • Thank you for reading Mohammad. Well, I was here (in EC) once in a blue moon. I guess EC is losing it's lustre for me. It's my fault. Anyway, I'm doing great. Thanks for asking. I hope you're too.

  • Nice story, thanks for sharing.

    BTW, long time no see! ,,, hope you are doing well.

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