Confronting our mortality

Another sad week--I lost another friend this week, unexpectedly. Another person I played on the playground with in Elementary School and only spoke to in the halls in high school and smiled and talked to for a few minutes when we saw each other at parties later. Those were the days when we were "invincible" and truly believed that 40 was ancient. My God, if you lived to be 40, one should be thankful for every second on Earth--as the Lord only knows you already have one foot in the grave.

Oh to be that foolish and innocent again. I've lost three friends in less than a month. Three people who were my age, or no more than a few years older. Three people in their very early 40s. And I've now realized that "WAIT! 40 years is not nearly enough time to inhabit this Earth.!!" 40 years is not enough time to live, to see everything there is to see, to hear everything there is to hear, to taste everything there is to taste. It isn't enough time to figure out your life; to get it right. Hell, I'm only just beginning to figure out what it is I really want to do with my life! It isn't enough time to spend with your family. It isn't enough time to be with the friends and people you love. It isn't enough time to watch your children grow up and become these amazing adults--who will be so much smarter than we were at their ages (God willing!) It just isn't enough.

If I had known back in my playground days, or even back in the days when we were sneaking out to go to parties in high school, how short time really was--how in just the blink of an eye, you went from being 17 and on top of the world to it all being over--I might have changed myself just a tiny bit. I might have visited my "embarrassing" grandparents just a little bit more once I could drive on my own--if only I had known they wouldn't be here forever. I might have listened to my grandmother's rambling stories that she repeated over and over again just one more time, and let my grandfather tease me with Slim Jims and Cheese crackers just one more day. I might have walked away instead of fighting with my sister over something stupid--most likely the phone or clothing--and told her I loved her instead of how much I detested her very presence, had I known she would die from breast cancer at the tender age of 28. I might have listened to my son telling me amazingly imaginative (and hard to follow) stories for just a few more minutes at night, instead of rushing to get everyone in bed so we could rush around tomorrow, if I only knew how quickly he would stop being that little boy with the huge imagination and the desire to share it with Mom. I might have spent a few more days just "being" with my kids, instead of working if I had known how quickly they would grow.

There's no point in regrets, in wishing we could go back and change things that have already gone. However, being confronted with mortality can either make us sad and depressed about the shortness of it all--or it can make us excited to wake up every day and get one more chance to get it right. I've heard the expression many times "Life is for living", but I have never really gotten it until this moment. Realizing how unpredictably short our time here can be makes me wonder what people--my family, my friends, customers and clients I've met, vendors, etc.--are going to remember about me. I realize I want them to remember that I was the person who always lived to the fullest--enjoying every second of every minute of every single day that I was blessed enough to be gifted with.

So today I will be sad for friends and loved ones that have passed, but realize that I am being given the gift of realization--realizing that I only have a set number of seconds to live--truly LIVE--my life. So I begin.