Her voice is awful. She’s rude and inconsiderate — often interrupting deep conversation with her monotone nonsense. Even after nine months of hearing her voice, it remains an annoyance.
My husband calls daily, multiple times a day, in fact.
The minutes we spend on the phone, regardless of how pointless the conversation, are extremely precious to us both. But it certainly doesn’t come without a cost.
The cost … 21 cents per minute with taxes and surcharges leaving it costing us a whopping 28 cents per minute.
Yes, it’s absolutely ridiculous (especially since one of the main goals of incarceration is rehabilitation communication with loved ones encouraged for such rehabilitative purposes). Nevertheless, it’s a cost we’re willing to pay. We’ve given up many other luxuries so that we may stay connected while we’re apart knowing that communication is one of the greatest tools for overcoming obstacles — and this, by far, is the greatest obstacle we’ve had to endure as of yet.
And even after having spent $8.40 for a 30 minute conversation with my husband, that awful computerized voice intrudes once again …
Though her timing is poor and her tone completely graceless her warning is nevertheless appreciated. Not many things in life come with a notice of expiration. But her’s … it provides us with 60 seconds — 60 seconds to ensure our final words are nothing short of love and grace.
If it weren’t for that rude, untimely voice we wouldn’t have those 60 seconds to prepare a happy ending.
Imagine if life itself came with a one minute warning — 60 seconds to prepare a happy ending.
What if you were told that you only have one minute before your heart gives out; before your teenager becomes a parent; before your spouse trades you in for a newer model; before you’re laid off from work…
Would you treat the moments differently?
Just imagine how differently we might appreciate our time we’re given and the people in our lives if every next came with a warning of expiration.
We’d likely love more deeply, show more appreciation, forgive more often, and live more unreserved.
We’d learn the art of embracing moments and making memories.
We’d focus less on ourselves and more on others; less on receiving and more on giving.
Unfortunately, we don’t know when a moment’s expiration will come. We aren’t given a warning to make amends or complete the bucket list we’ve created. We’re given only the now — a now that can end in the blink of an eye — no warning, no expiration date.
So why not live as if we always have one minute remaining?
What if you heard, “you have one minute remaining?”