On Good Friday a friend of mine died. About two weeks before that, he found out he was sick. Two weeks. I am not unfamiliar with the feeling of grief for friends and family, but this is different. He was not an addict. He was not old. He was not a person with many unhealthy behaviors. He was just our church organist and choirmaster, and one day he noticed a lump on his back. And two weeks later he died.
I have, for the last few years, begun to really live my life. I’m working toward important goals, and doing a lot to help my local community. This is really making me look again, though, and really evaluate whether I am making the most of the time that I have.