I came across a letter written by an elderly woman the other day. It was not something that you come across regularly, it was something that was once in a lifetime. It was one of those special moments in your life when you come across something that inspires you and that opens your eyes to the things that matter most. I would like to share it with you and hope that you get Julia's message just like I did.

Dear Susan,

I'm reading more and dusting less. I'm sitting in the yard and admiring the view without fussing about the weeds in the garden. I'm spending more time with my family and friends and less time working. Whenever possible, life should be a pattern of experiences to savor, not to endure. I'm trying to recognize these moments now and cherish them.

I'm no longer "saving" anything; we use our good china and crystal for every special event such as losing a pound, getting the sink unstopped, or when the first amaryllis blossoms in the garden. I wear my good blazer to the market. My theory is, if I look prosperous, I can shell out $29.34 for one small bag of groceries. I'm not saving my good perfume for special parties, but I'm wearing it for the clerks at the hardware store and the tellers at the bank. "Someday" and "one of these days" are losing their grip on my vocabulary. If it's worth seeing or hearing or doing, I want to see it, hear it, and do it now.

I'm not sure what others would've done had they known they wouldn't be here for the tomorrow that we all like to take for granted. I think they would have called their family members and a few close friends. They might have called a few former friends to apologize and mend fences for past squabbles. I like to think that they would have gone out for a Chinese dinner or for whatever their favorite food was. I'm guessing; I'll never know.

It's those little things left undone that would make me angry if I knew my hours were limited. Angry because I hadn't written certain letters that I intended to write "one of these days." Angry and sorry that I didn't tell my husband and parents often enough how much I truly love them. I'm trying very hard not to put off, hold back, or save anything that would add laughter and luster to my life. And every morning, when I open my eyes, I tell myself that it is special. Every day, every minute, every breath is truly a gift from God.

People say "friends must always hold hands, but true friends don't need to hold hands because they know that the hand is always there." I don't believe in miracles. I rely on them.

Life may not be the party we hoped for, but while we are here we might as well dance.

Love your friend,
Julia.

What I love the most about this letter is not the beautiful flow of the words or even the amazing image that is painted within my mind as I am reading it. What I love most about this letter is that she finally figured it out. Julia found what many of us spend our entire lives looking for.

83-year-old Julia found out how to live in the moment.

Julia found out that the most magnificent people are the ones who continue dancing even after the music stops.

I can only hope to figure it all out, just like Julia has.