The routine of life has a way of blending one day into the next.
We rise before dawn, rush about the morning routine to get to where we need to go, only to return home at the end of the day to rush around some more before finally calling it a day. Bone-tired and weary, we fall into bed and shut our eyes against our accomplishments of the day, only to wake the next morning and repeat the same scenario all over again.
We complain about having to do this and that, to be here or there, with never enough time to get it all done, to get everyone everywhere they need to go, and we are not always happy about it, yet we continue to do the same old same old, day in, day out. Some of us cope by wishing our lives away--when the kids are grown, I'll do this
or more short-term yearning, is it Friday yet?
Much of our time is spent thinking about tomorrow, never thinking twice that the next day and the day after that will dawn. We expect--if the creek doesn't rise---that the gorgeous Florida sun will continue to rise over the Atlantic and melt all orange aglow in the west evening sky.
We take so much for granted. Life--it's gonna happen.
Intellectually, we know death waits for us all, but not to you or me today---We've got things to do
--and certainly, not for our kids. Children grow up. They outlive their parents. It's the natural order. It's what we expect will happen.
Sudden death slams the door shut on expectations.
No second chance to say I love you, I appreciate you, thank you, I'm sorry, come sit by me and give us a hug.
No opportunity to sit and breathe deep the moments that fully engage our lives. No more dreams of what might have been. No chance for a final glance backward, a quick wave of the hand in good-bye. All we knew with such certainty is shattered.
Our dreams are stolen.
The death of Rafe Maccarone
--just 15 years old--reminds us to expect that the creek could rise for any of us at anytime.
Make time to take time. Hold those you love close and live each day as if there is no tomorrow.
My deepest condolences to the Maccarone
Labels: Rafe Maccarone, sudden death, teenage loss