It really shouldn’t come as a surprise that some of our friends or acquaintances suddenly die given the stage of life we find ourselves in. In recent weeks that tragic thing happened and I can’t get it out of my mind. I mean he was so healthy, and vibrant, and they were so active. And he always smiled. And there was so much more for them in all of the tomorrows.

This death, this insanely unexpected death has me completely rattled. Of course, I’m not for a moment dismissing how painful and tragic his death is and will continue to be for his wife and family. But geez, I can’t stop thinking about how a vibrant person of our age was so swiftly taken from us all.

It has me ticked off that I’ve allowed so much time to fritter away, pandemic or not. I mean I should have planted those frilly sweet peas like I had thought I might so I could fill mason jars full of their blousy fragrance. Why hadn’t I got off my duff and scheduled a sunset kayak paddle instead of watching some stupid TV show? I haven’t called my girlfriend in Edmonton for a sin’s age for goodness sake (and it shouldn’t matter how much I dislike picking up the phone to make any phone call). Geez Louise I need to get back to living this life like there’s no tomorrow, because there may not be a tomorrow.

5 thoughts on “tomorrow”

  1. sorry to hear of the loss of this person. your thoughts are raw and speak truth unfettered with flowery cliches. your images are a lovely tribute to life.

  2. I can relate to this so much. Every day I think we will head down to watch the sunset over the bay, only to give way to my pj’s and the TV. It seems there are times I am just plain worn out. So go easy on yourself, taking tiny steps when you are ready. And, I am so sorry for your loss.

  3. Oh! You are absolutely on the button with this! Too often we let things slide and it takes a painful event to jolt us out of the fug.
    I’m too far away for a hug, but you keep those sweet pea seeds in a prominent place til autumn.

  4. My condolences on the loss of your dear friend. The unexpected loss is the most tragic for friends and family. Much different than my mother-in-law who has technically been living in hospice for three years. It is events like these that make us take stock of what we’ve done with our lives. May the memories you share bring comfort and strength.

  5. I’m so sorry, Diane, for the loss of your friend. As Leonard Cohen says, “We are so lightly here.”
    I really feel the speedy passage of time in how fast my boy has grown (leaped!) from infant to tween. I feel as if I have barely had time to sort my winter and summer clothes and here again we are sorting the clothes that are too small for him.

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