I have measured out my life with coffee spoons
The other day I went to the drugstore and indulged in one of my favorite pastimes, buying makeup.
Hey, we all have our small vices.
I bought a new tube of undereye circle concealer of my favorite kind (see this post for the reason why I need it). I now possess three of these tubes of the same type and color: here it is, inexpensive and highly recommended for the woman in your life who might be a bit undereye-challenged.
These tubes also tend to last a long long time, even with heavy users such as myself, and that’s another one of their most fabulous traits. I bought a third one because I’ve become afraid that the manufacturer will stop making it. I’ve tried about a hundred other types, and this is the best one for me. It has managed to replace my previously favored concealer another manufacturer (Clinique) had precipitously stopped making, leaving me high and dry (and very dark-circled) till I finally found this one.
But after I had bought the tube, taken it home, and placed it in a little drawer with its fellows-in-waiting, I began to wonder how long these three will last. In other words, will they take me to the end of my life?
I’ve had that kind of thought before when purchasing products, in particular with a brand of walking shoes I liked so much that I bought about four pairs in case they stopped making that particular model. And of course there’s the line from the T. S. Eliot poem “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock” which I quoted in the title of this post. Even as a young person—which is when I first read the poem—it gave me a little creepy chill:
…Do I dare
Disturb the universe?
In a minute there is time
For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.For I have known them all already, known them all:
Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,
I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;
I know the voices dying with a dying fall
Beneath the music from a farther room.
So how should I presume?And I have known the eyes already, known them all””…
T. S. Eliot must have been born old, because he was very very young (an undergraduate) when he wrote that poem. But I’m considerably older than that, and certainly old enough to wonder what might constitute “a lifetime supply” of something.
But it’s always been hard for me to finish things, to put them away, to throw them out, although I do it. When I was pregnant, I didn’t buy a whole lot of baby clothes prior to my son’s birth. I didn’t know the sex of the child (in those days amniocentesis was not standard), although I suspected a boy. But I was content to wait to find out. However, I did buy two little terrycloth onesies in the smallest size for the newborn, and of course some diapers.
When my son was born he weighed seven pounds. But within about two weeks he’d gained so much weight that he’d grown out of the smallest of the outfits. I remember the outfit well; it was turquoise and had a tiny little rainbow on the upper left hand part, and the usual snaps to fasten it. Cute.
As I folded it and put it away, I cried. I had just bought it! He had just been born! And here I was retiring his first garment.
When one is a parent, one has to learn to say goodbye to every stage of a child’s life and to welcome the new stages with joy. I learned to do it, but it didn’t come easy to me.
Have you ever tried an orange color corrector on which to layer the concealer?
I hate shopping anymore, be it for groceries, makeup, shoes, or other things. You can’t try something new to see if you like it and want to add it to your regular shopping list because the next time you need it, it won’t be there. Name brands i’ve always used are being replaced by store brands that are packaged in different sizes. It definitely makes you want to hoard and tires you out trying to choose between all the new offerings.
I don’t think in terms of having things last till I die. I just want to be able to obtain them a few months down the road. Somehow life was easier when you weren’t constantly forced to study new things and make choices about relatively unimportant things. It left you more time to concentrate on what was important to you.
BTW, I’ve lost a bit of weight in the last year, so I’m really appy I didn’t throw out all my old clothes. Tey fit well now, and I didn’t ave to spend hours shopping for new slacks.
Lovely post. I am a fellow dark shadow sufferer and also use concealer…
No it doesn’t come easy. When our daughter, the eldest child, left the nest it was a moment of pride because she was so mature and wise, and a moment for tears because she was the first born. Now she is 45 and the whole family will be in Iowa for Thanksgiving and to celebrate her 5th year cancer free.
So true about parenting, and beautifully said.
I once bought what was probably a lifetime supply of incandescent bulbs, a couple of months before they were scheduled to be outlawed. It’s the only thing I have ever seriously stocked up on. I HATE fluorescent bulbs. I am convinced there are people, and I am one of them, who feel tired and irritable and unwell when exposed to them. (I am not a hypochondriac or weird about my health in any other way!) Anyway, the ban was unbanned and the bulbs were taking up a lot of space in the garage attic, so I sold most of them at a yard sale… to a real hoarder.
The most difficult thing to give your child is … up.
I have had separation anxiety as a parent a few too many times
About a dozen years ago, I purchased a lovely new clarinet “the last one that I would ever buy”, as I stated at the time.
Little did I know that at some point my “men in sheds” proclivities would emerge, and I would start hunting down and restoring interesting vintage clarinets, to the great benefit of my mental health. Now two or three different examples go through my hands every month or so.
People and things have an interesting relationship with one another, and love is sometimes beyond expressing in words.
All three of my children are in their thirties now. Reading your post turned on the “way back” machine in the back of my mind. Flowing like a river. God, I love my kids.
“When one is a parent, one has to learn to say goodbye to every stage of a child’s life and to welcome the new stages with joy. I learned to do it, but it didn’t come easy to me.” [neo]
Don’t simply welcome the new stages of a child’s life, revel in them! while each stage of each of our children’s lives has been unique in both its joys and its tribulations, now, in their adulthood, my wife and I are having more fun and enjoyment with them than we ever had any reason to expect in our lives—and we have told each of them exactly that.
When one is a parent, one has to learn to say goodbye to every stage of a child’s life and to welcome the new stages with joy. I learned to do it, but it didn’t come easy to me.
Breathtaking!
My children who were once so tender and new now have children of their own and, after all these years, I’m still struggling to learn how to embrace the glory of the newness without grieving over what has been lost and can never again be re-experienced. It helps a great deal how sweet the babies are.
I don’t use make-up but can relate to the shoes.
Everytime I find a style I like, they quit making it by the time I need a new pair; so now I buy at least two.
However, the timing is as expat says
expat Says:
October 5th, 2016 at 3:49 pm
I hate shopping anymore, be it for groceries, makeup, shoes, or other things. You can’t try something new to see if you like it and want to add it to your regular shopping list because the next time you need it, it won’t be there. … Somehow life was easier when you weren’t constantly forced to study new things and make choices about relatively unimportant things. It left you more time to concentrate on what was important to you.
***
I recently tried out a new kitchen storage gadget because it was expensive and I wasn’t sure it would fit in my cabinets; I went back to the store ONE week later to get more and they were already discontinued.
Pretty much the story of my life: anything I like (including tv shows) immediately goes on the Cosmic Remainders List. (I hope my Kiss of Death doesn’t extend to blogs!!!)
On the decision dilemma, there is at least one researcher who agrees with you: constantly making decisions about relatively trivial matters IS psychologically tiring.
https://www.scientificamerican.com/article/tough-choices-how-making/
“These experimental insights suggest that the brain works like a muscle: when depleted, it becomes less effective. Furthermore, we should take this knowledge into account when making decisions. If we’ve just spent lots of time focusing on a particular task, exercising self-control or even if we’ve just made lots of seemingly minor choices, then we probably shouldn’t try to make a major decision. These deleterious carryover effects from a tired brain may have a strong shaping effect on our lives.”
Maybe that’s why we as a people are making such bad political choices: we’re all tired from walking through the cereal aisle.
When it comes to comfortable shoes, I know of whence you speak. I have just received 4 pair of “kick-around” shoes that are just so comfortable and inexpensive (unlike my Sperry Top Sider “boaters”) that I took action to make sure I had a good supply on hand. Every six months I’ll check to see if they are made any more. If they stop production, I’ll google them to see who bought out the remaining inventory to increase my holdings in my comfort shoes.
I’m still mourning over the demise of Paloma Picasso’s red lipstick!
“The Mississippi River broke through a protective dike today. What is a protective dike? Is that a large woman standing near the river going [in Butch voice] “Don’t go near there!” [in Girly voice] “But Betty-” [in Butch voice] “Don’t go near there! Get away from the river! Stay away from there.” I know, we can’t use the word “dyke.” You can’t even say “lesbian”, it’s “women in comfortable shoes.” — Robin Williams
At my age, I don’t even buy unripe bananas.
Our daughter decided to go to college at Chaminade University in Honolulu. As doting parents we went with her to see to her getting comfortably installed. It turned out that her “dorm room” was in an attic space above a restaurant about a mile from the campus. It was hot, dark, infested with roaches, and coed. We were depressed. She was, on the other hand, ecstatic.
As we flew back to the mainland, I was filled with sorrow and separation anxiety. How was I going to protect my precious daughter when she was so far away and living in such deplorable conditions?
Long story short – she thrived. Much to my chagrin I realized that she no longer needed her old man to protect her every move. A bittersweet memory for sure.
Life’s stages and transitions can be emotional. The night of my Navy retirement party (21 years of Navy Blue and Gold), both my wife and I wept. It had been the defining reality of our lives since our marriage and suddenly it was over. Another bittersweet memory.
J.J.:
Another bittersweet memory.
Dr. Johnson wrote,
Funky PhD:
Thanks for that quote.
I also submit from Robert Frost this.
Neo, I too have the guilty pleasure of buying makeup. This started late in my life. As a young woman I wore lipstick and maybe mascara, but I did have a concealer, more for covering smatterings of acne than dark circles. The acne is long gone but the dark circles have arrived. However, the bother me less than the puffiness under my eyes. No makeup can help that. But I enjoy keeping up with makeup blogs; the ones I most frequently read are the English ones, Lisa Eldridge, Pixiwoo, and Caroline Hirons. Actually, I just love to listen to their British accent!
Susanamantha:
Oh yes, the puffiness, the puffiness!
I think my downfall in the makeup-buying arena is the proliferation of makeup department stores like Ulta. I am amazed, simply amazed, at the variety. When I’m in there, I’ve noticed that I’m about 30-40 years older than everyone else in the store.
Regarding kids: like someone above advised, I have really enjoyed every phase of their lives. I don’t think I really miss the phases that have passed because the one they are in always holds interest. I was surprised how easily I adjusted to them (those that already have) coming into adulthood. I find it easy to move aside and let them do whatever they are capable of doing and I always enjoy hearing about their lives and their thoughts and opinions, even when I know they are wrong. Knowledge is a journey and it’s fun to hear them reason out the world as they experiencce it.
The Mrs. has a hard time saying goodbye at College, but I find it exciting. Exhilirating. I know what a huge impact the experience had on my life and it bring me joy to know they are embarking on that journey, even though it holds grief and sorrow.
Andrew Kalavan recently said, “The source of all joy is love, and the price of love is grief.” That sums it up pretty love. Or, as Louis Prima sang, “If you want the things you love, you’ve got to have showers.”
Regarding saying goodbye to things, I guess I am the opposite of a hoarder. A minimalist? I take true joy in paring down, eliminating, discarding. I remember being sentimental, even collecting things as a child, but at some point in my early 20s I started to shift and for at least 15 years now I view most material things with annoyance.
We still have one Little Firefly at home, but I’m already pushing Mrs. Firefly to downsize from our 5 bedroom suburban home on an acre of land to a 2 bedroom condominium in the city. We could get rid of rooms full of stuff. Even go down to 1 car, like when we were first married. I’m losing this battle, but I dream of the day when we do it and I can pare down even more.
A saying atributed to Consuscius: “He who owns little is little owned.” Each thing feels like a burden to me. When I open a Christmas or Birthday gift a little voice deep in my mind says, “Where will I store this? What can I get rid of to make room for it?”
Not only do I not get sad when I know I’m buying the last of something, I am happy. When I figure out a way to eliminate or consolidate anything I feel relief. It’s like a physical weight is lifted from my shoulders.
Most folks can rattle a list of things they would buy if they won x amount of dollars in a lottery. Me, I dream of a lottery freeing me from things. Lving in a hotel in Manhattan with olny the clothes that would fit in the closet. If I want a change of scenery, buy a plane ticket, hail a cab, throw the clothes in a trunk and head for a different locale. Feel like driving a car? Rent one for awhile.
That’s the life for me!
I really like that technology has caught up with me so I can store my memories in the cloud and access them from anywhere. I don’t even need to keep photos or home movies in boxes. They’re in the cloud. I don’t even need to own a computer, tablet or laptop. Sit down in an internet cafe in Grand Cayman and there are my photos!
A lot of what Rufus Firefly resonates with me. I always say one of the things I’m most grateful for is that we never “traded-up”. Our 3 bedroom, 2000 square foot home on a small lot is just right for a number of years now. And every point of upkeep is by the square foot…and oh, the upkeep! I also am grateful that I enjoyed every moment of raising our kids. I stayed home and we sacrificed on a one-income salary until it was time to send the first one to college. Saying goodbye to our son when he left for Boot Camp after joining the Marines was probably the toughest one. While I had a few tears when his older sister left home for college (here in L.A., but nonetheless–on her own, and she has lived on her own ever since), the military thing cut me deep. I indeed cried for 3 weeks, even though I knew it was a good thing. He recently returned from living out of the country for 4 years, and I cried when his plane touched down on U.S. soil, even though I hadn’t cried with his comings and goings for these 8 years. Until that moment, I didn’t realize that below the surface, I was harboring a reality of separation that was different than anything else in my life. At this point, I look forward to when they all have homes big enough to take on some of the Christmas things, etc etc.
Sharon W:
“At this point, I look forward to when they all have homes big enough to take on some of the Christmas things, etc etc.”
After some 30 years, I still remember the day I got a big box in the mail from my mother, and inside was the note “this is the last of your things” — the last few years at Christmas I have dragged out the keepsake boxes and made the kids pick what they wanted to keep, so I could get rid of the rest. Still working on the books, movies, and CDs though.
(PS “Until that moment, I didn’t realize that below the surface, I was harboring a reality of separation that was different than anything else in my life.” — so glad your son came home safe.)
“I have measured out my life with coffee spoons.” I have been looking at that title on your postings, Neo-Neocon, for several days and thinking I would shortly get around to reading it. Then yesterday I happened to come upon a video of T.S. Eliot reading his poem “Journey of the Magi” and I thought it sounded so wonderful in his own voice. So more investigating of Eliot’s own readings of his poetry. and I came then to “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock” and among the lengthy but rich lines and verses saw your quote. So right then to your post, and I liked it a lot. A nice connection. I am glad to find that you love poetry. It brings meaning to our lives. Also note I love your line, “T. S. Eliot must have been born old, because he was very very young (an undergraduate) when he wrote that poem.” He was an amazing artist, and I have just begun to realize that. And thank you, Neo-Neocon for your many literate posts that present the life of our culture, our civilization.