Imagine your heart rate if you opened your front door to find a coroner and security officer who had come to tell you that your brother had been killed in an auto accident in far-off Alaska. It happened to friends of mine only last evening. Shocked is the best word to describe how they must be feeling.
Hearing about how my friend's brother's car had swerved, then gone off a mountain road made me think about how fragile life is and how important it is that we make the most of each and every day.
How often do we postpone things, thinking that we'll do that later. What if 'later' doesn't happen? We've all done it. There's a friend I've been meaning to call but haven't gotten to it for far too long. There's a letter I need to write to my cousin who now lives in a nursing home. Then there's the dinner party I've only thought about having for far too long now.
There are days when I do little that can be considered productive. I've wasted some of the precious time allotted me. I've frittered away time that I might be doing something good for myself and/or others. I know I'm not alone. We all do this. For some, it becomes a habit.
When we see a life cut short, it jolts us into looking at life from a new perspective. For those of us who write, maybe it's a good jab in the ribs for us to get going on that long-dreamed of project. A book doesn't write itself. Uh-uh, you've got to be the pilot. A family stories project doesn't get done if you don't spend some time working on it instead of just thinking about it.
When you woke up this morning, a whole day stretched out before you. How are you going to use it? Will you tell yourself it's too hot to do much? Or will you make the most of it?
Hearing about how my friend's brother's car had swerved, then gone off a mountain road made me think about how fragile life is and how important it is that we make the most of each and every day.
How often do we postpone things, thinking that we'll do that later. What if 'later' doesn't happen? We've all done it. There's a friend I've been meaning to call but haven't gotten to it for far too long. There's a letter I need to write to my cousin who now lives in a nursing home. Then there's the dinner party I've only thought about having for far too long now.
There are days when I do little that can be considered productive. I've wasted some of the precious time allotted me. I've frittered away time that I might be doing something good for myself and/or others. I know I'm not alone. We all do this. For some, it becomes a habit.
When we see a life cut short, it jolts us into looking at life from a new perspective. For those of us who write, maybe it's a good jab in the ribs for us to get going on that long-dreamed of project. A book doesn't write itself. Uh-uh, you've got to be the pilot. A family stories project doesn't get done if you don't spend some time working on it instead of just thinking about it.
When you woke up this morning, a whole day stretched out before you. How are you going to use it? Will you tell yourself it's too hot to do much? Or will you make the most of it?
My condolences to your friend. A beloved aunt died in a car accident some years ago so I've had a taste of what it is like to suffer this type of loss. I tweeted this post.
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