Savoring Every Moment

Mikey savoring every moment with his Dad

Mikey lived his life savoring every moment.  He knew the importance of each time interval. And as the clock ticked, he savored each moment. He appreciated his time on this earth; with relish, compassion and purpose.  His work to create Mikey’s Way Foundation is a testament to who he was and how he chose to live his life and use his time.

In one of his many journal entries, “A Moment in a Two-Month”, Mikey expressed the importance of savoring every moment.  

Time is Relative to the Observer

“Time is relative to the observer. Humans conspired together to invent the second as a means of measuring time intervals. Everyone lives by the second. It dictates the hour, days, weeks, months, and years. And the calendar keeps our engagements to the second in order. But time is relative to the observer. I am not bound to the second. Rather, I measure them in two-month intervals. When you think about it, both measurements are equally arbitrary; both are equally indifferent to the intrinsic behavior of existences. Only here’s the difference: my time interval is important; your second is meaningless.”

The only undefeatable army

“Time is the only undefeatable army. Time burned Rome, and arrived before city gates as a Trojan horse, and stumbled upon the New World. Time invaded Omaha beach crossed the Rhine, and dropped the Atomic bomb. Time will kill you. But time is relative to the observer.

Two-Month Intervals

I didn’t always count in two-month intervals.  No, there was a time, many two-months ago, when the hands of my clock ticked away in seconds.  I kept my eye on that clock and the hand of old grandfather time as it marched in circles.  Whether it was s simpler time is debatable, I guess relative to the observer. You see, one day in my first year of high school I was counting the time away in seconds when I felt a pain in my stomach. Many seconds later, about 604,800 seconds in fact, I went in for an ultra sound. When I came out the face of my watch had smashed, and the cogs no longer spun, and the hand no longer marched.”

Scan to Scan

“It has been 15 two-months since that fateful day in March of 2004.  I still receive chemotherapy regularly, about once every 0.115 two-months. But probably the most decisive days of treatment are scans.  Scans occur once every two-month exactly.  Exactly. And so, I count time from scan to scan. You see, if time is going to defeat me, it will be on the turning of a two-month.  With this knowledge, I strive to fine that time to live in between the dreadful two-month interval.”

“But it is difficult sometimes. As I sit here, pondering my upcoming scans in about 0.05 two-months, I think: if all goes well, I’ll get to live carefree until around December. Or I think: what fun things do I have planned before the next two-month.  I always think about what events buffer the next two-month, and I look forward to these buffers with excitement. After all, you never know what two-month will be your last.”

Savor Every Moment

“I have become very efficient at overcoming the two-month. I live my life savoring every moment.  That’s right’: the moment. The best time measurement of all. Don’t count in your arbitrary second.  I shouldn’t count in my foreboding two-month. Count in the moment. Every time I hang out with a friend, every time I complete some work for school or for sport with pride, every time I see a child with cancer smile as I hand him a gift, every time I touch someone I love, the grand clock ticks. And the hand of time marches on in the moment.”

Michael Friedman