Don't Wait

 

I’m going to start off dark but then I hope to end with hope and light. We had the funeral for a family member last week. Watching his grown sons was heart wrenching. Their dad was their hero, and he should be.

That is about the hardest thing a man can do. Every time I think of my dad, who has been gone for 26 years, I wish for just one more conversation.

Hey Dad, I’d like you to meet your seven grandchildren. They’re great kids. All of them. Hey Dad, did I do OK? Did I become the man you had hoped I would?

A friend buried his son this week. He was killed in an accident. This giant, good man is totally broken. I promise you it is every father’s worst nightmare. And yes, that’s worse.

I can remember when my son was attending college in South Carolina. He was there for five years and every single time when he was driving home, or back to school, I was in agony until I knew that he had arrived safely.

He’s 43 with a family of his own now but I would be lying if I didn’t tell you that I still worry about him.  Every time he is driving somewhere late, I worry. He’s a good driver, but still, I worry.

I can’t imagine the despair if anything bad would have happened. It is unfathomable.

I don’t like the saying “life goes on,” but you know what? We are still here. And life is glorious if you make it so.  We honor those that have gone on by making the best of the time we have.

Like doing our best at everything we do. A PT buddy just sent out a list of things that don’t require talent. Like always having a positive attitude. And using good body language. Being coachable. Doing a little extra. Always being on time.

And enjoying the process. You don’t like practice? Look at practice as a chance to get better. My favorite offensive line coach used to tell his young charges during the week leading up to a state championship game, “we’ve got one more opportunity to get it right.”

Sports columnist Rick Reilly once wrote a piece that asked the question “why are we here?” It was his young son who asked the question. Reilly went on to talk about a lot of things like living in the moment, watching the big game, throwing an apple core at a stop sign.

“I've thought a lot about it, son, and I don't think it's all that complicated. I think maybe we're here just to teach a kid how to bunt, turn two and eat sunflower seeds without using his hands.”

When he was through with a wonderful list of things we might all do, his son replied "no, what I meant is, why are we here when Mom said to pick her up 40 minutes ago?" Reilly wove a wonderful tale only to discover that he didn’t understand the question.

That’s OK.  We’ve got plenty of reasons to be here now. I believe we’re here to love each other, make mistakes, tip our server extra because we can, open the door for a stranger, argue without being disagreeable, go places we’ve never been. We’re here to take donuts to the small business on a rainy day because, well, they’re really slow on a rainy day and can use the pick-me-up.

We’re here to pay it forward and give gifts where the recipient never knows where the gift came from. We all have a lot of life to live or we don’t, and that’s the reality of it. So, please, I beg of you, make the best of every moment that you have, not with the dread of no tomorrow but because of the possibility that there will be a tomorrow.