We hear so often how precious life is, how we should live every day to the fullest, how we should stop and smell the roses, never go to bed angry, and to always say “I love you” to those we do love.
It’s so easy to get swept away in the angst of our day-to-day existence, worrying about bills or the job or the kids, or the class we might fail, or the person who won’t drive slowly down the street. Small and big things worry us, take us away from that concept of “living in the now,” which I’m still not completely sure I understand.
Today I’ve been thinking a lot about how things can so quickly change in just one minute and that awful something happens to make us slow down, sit still, look around, think about our friends, families, loved ones, and look at them in a different light. When that awful something happens, I also look inward and do a quick self-assessment, wondering if I’ve wandered too far away from the person I want to be, because I’m so worried about every other thing on the planet.
A sweet student at my school, someone quite beloved by probably every single person she’s ever met, lost her brother today. Recently married, he was a police officer, and he was two hours away doing some police training when he collapsed, from the over 100-degree heat that has been plaguing the state for the past three or four days.
I didn’t know this man, but my heart aches for him, his new bride, his sweet sister, his entire family who are now, suddenly, without someone they love and care about very much. No one could have foreseen something like this happening. We go forward and suddenly the road bends to the left. We are caught off-guard. What we thought would happen, doesn’t happen. The time we thought we had, we suddenly no longer have.
And there’s a deep hole, a deep ache, something that never, ever gets filled again, no matter how much time goes by.
So I found the recording my sister had made, when she upgraded her old phone. On that old phone was a voicemail left by our mom, who left us herself almost two years ago. I put the CD into the computer, and waited.
And there was that wonderful, beautiful voice I never thought I would hear again. And I can hear it whenever I want, only she’ll just be saying the same thing over and over. It doesn’t matter. I have that voice. Something to always hold onto.
I hope my sweet student and her family have that too. I hope they have something beautiful and wonderful to hold onto that will always remind them of that brother, son, husband. It will always hurt, but we go on nevertheless.
We do take things for granted; we are only humans, and humans are frail, jealous, selfish. But we are also fragile, vulnerable, hungry, and alone. We can, if we so choose, take the time to breathe and enjoy each other, sing and smile and care for each other. It’s not always easy, but I think if we get up each morning and smile in gratitude for another day, and ask ourselves “what good can I accomplish today” and then really try to be that good, maybe it will make the journey that much more pleasant.
We all have loves; we all have loses. We need to remember that everything changes in just one second and live the life we need to live, and take all of our memories with us. Always.
Wonderful thoughts. You’ve made me cry however. Love you!!!!
Guess that means you liked it. I saw that you posted the link. Thanks 🙂
I love this and you made me cry, too! Let’s get that group together for dinner soon.
You get them together, and we’ll go!