Change thinking enhance life
THE electronic age is near completion. This year I received scores of electronic-generated Christmas cards from around the world, many from students and government officials in Bangladesh. Added to those are all the paper Christmas cards I received hand-delivered, which number just one!
If not for Ronald Biswas, the Country Manager of Intertek in Bangladesh, I would have none at all, but there it sits on my desk in a forlorn state to remind me of the old Bob Dylan folk song that "times, they are a changing."Change for the better we must always welcome and embrace if we are to move forward; and waving 'bye-bye' to the humble Christmas card, I guess, is just one of those.
It surprised me to discover that Bangladesh produces some of the best Christmas cards and special occasions cards in the world, and the locally-produced Ideal wedding stationery is second to none and should be exported far and widebefore the electronic age catches up and takes over in that area as well!
At this time of year I am continually asked what Christmas means to me. Primarily, it's the time I give myself to think and re-assess my life and the direction in which I am steering itwe are all captains of our own ship and creators of our own happiness and destiny. I take time out to evaluate new acquaintances and old friendships and assess if they are worth keeping or if they are burdensome like excess baggage that needs to be cast out. I am also a great believer in giving credit where it's due.
It was Christmas in the early '70s when I coined the expression "today is never too soon … tomorrow might be too late"a philosophy by which I have lived ever since. I was a houseguest of my business partner in the UK. His father, Stan Waller, continuously said "thanks" for everything you did for him, however small.
If you made him a cup of tea, he would thank you. After he had a few sips, he would say something like: "That's a lovely cup of tea, thank you." He expressed his gratitude unfailingly at every given opportunity. One day when we were alone, I asked him why he thanked everyone so often, and he confided he did not know when he would die and it was his wish to express his thanks while he was still alive and had the opportunity to do so.
As I lay on the bed that night, I recalled the conversation and wrote down those words: "Today is never too soon … tomorrow might be too late," which later I had printed on my personal and business stationery, as more of a reminder to me.
As I was in Public Relations at the time, many of my clients assumed it meant, today is never too soon to get a story/photograph in the press, because tomorrow might be too late and the opportunity is gone, but that was not it.
Today is never too soon to tell someone you love them, you admire them, you appreciate them, because only Allah knows what tomorrow will bringyou could die or they could die and the opportunity would be lost forever.
Some months later I was visiting my mum. I remember sitting opposite her having a cup of tea and a chat and trying to manufacture the courage to tell her that I loved her!
LOVE YOU!
I know, it sounds ridiculous, but it just wasn't done. In those days boys were not in touch with their feminine side as they are now. Telling your mother that you love her was sort of sissy-like and something exclusive for the ears of one's girlfriend.
I waited for her to finish what she was saying, looked her straight into her eyes and told her that I loved her. Then got up, walked to her side of the table, threw my arms around her, gave her a big hug and planted a loving kiss on her weather-worn cheeks, which totally embarrassed her! She just wasn't expecting it and became all flustered and shybut she loved it. The "X"s (kisses) at the bottom of every letter I had sent her after that were more special and meaningful than ever before.
Little did I know then that was the last time I would see her alive. Following her death, I have carried no hang-ups or regrets. I had told her that I loved her while she was still alive.
The most beautiful and most powerful sound in the world to hear, if said with honesty, is: "I love you."
When my sister Joan was dying of cancer, she entrusted me to handle all outstanding family affairs. This included the heart-rending task of informing her children of the sad news. Before meeting with her on a one-to-one basis, I gave each child two instructions: to tell their mother that they loved her and secondly to unburden their conscience. For example, if they had stolen money from her purse (or something else naughty), and I assured them that they would be forgiven and they could get on with their life with a clear conscience for having done what was right to do.
Initially, I was met with the usual distort: "She knows I love her," but that's beside the point and just isn't the same. Besides when is it right to limit those whom we love to a certain number of times we tell them? The children did as I had requested and are most grateful now that they did.
I'm of the belief there is little or no point in telling people whom you know that you love them, appreciate them, admire them or say nice things about them after they have died. Love and appreciation is best served to the living and only Allah knows at that particular moment if it is something they've been longing and needing to hear.
The greatest craving of mankind is to be appreciated and we can all afford to give our appreciation generously to those who deserve it.
The writer is a former newspaper and magazine Publisher and Editor, an award-winning Writer and Photographer of international renown, and a special friend of Bangladesh.
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