Maybe Tomorrow

My former spot at work was located on the same floor as the kitchen and the fireplace ... and yes, before you ask, I miss my fireplace duties almost as much as I miss my quote post. I miss my wiener garden and my framed note card piece from Ears Wide Open? and my Nerf basketball hoop, too, but most of all, I miss seeing my friends throughout the day. Most days I bring my lunch to work, and back when I sat downstairs, I would often sit at the long silver counter in the kitchen and eat. Since I usually eat lunch later in the afternoon than most folks, I was generally alone at the counter. I'm not sure why, but at some point during those lunches, I began browsing through the newspaper that's placed in the kitchen each morning. I'm also not sure why, but there was one certain part of the paper that I read every time I ate lunch ... the obituaries ... that's right, I used to sit in the kitchen, eat my lunch and read about the lives of people who had passed away. And each time I read, I was always struck by how different the stories were ... they were as different as the people to whom they paid tribute.

Today I was asked to do something I've never been asked to do before ... a friend asked me to help out with the writing of her father's obituary. Her dad hasn't passed away yet ... in fact, he's surprised not only the doctors but his entire family by hanging on as long as he has considering the seriousness of his illness. My friend and her family are keenly aware at this stage, however, that the life of the man they love so dearly is coming to an end. I sensed an urgency in my friend's voice when she asked if I would be willing to help with her father's obituary ... an urgency that immediately caused me to know that the most important thing I could possibly do today would be to honor her request. I've never met my friend's father, but tonight I find myself wishing I would have ... tonight I find myself feeling as if I've known him for many years ... tonight I feel a kinship with him and his family ... tonight I understand he is a man who is deeply loved and that he will be truly missed by all who know him.

As I drove home after work this evening, I thought about how many times today I thought or said the words, "Maybe tomorrow." And the more I thought about how many times I thought or said those words today, the more I thought about how many other days I've thought or said those words. Lots and lots and lots of days I think or say those words ... "Maybe tomorrow" ... I say those words with the arrogant and foolish belief that I will have tomorrow ... I say those words knowing full well that there's not a person alive, including me and you, who is guaranteed another day, another hour, another moment. When I used to sit in the kitchen and read the obituaries in the newspaper, I often wondered if the person I was reading about knew that his or her death was imminent. And even more often, I wondered if the person left things undone ... if the person left words unsaid ... if the person left people unloved. I wondered if they drew their last breath on a day when they, like I do on so many of my days, thought or said the words, "Maybe tomorrow." 

Earlier this evening, someone sent me a photo with a note that said, "I can only hope I leave behind this kind of love when I'm gone." I can't think of a better way to close tonight's post than by sharing the photo. Be kind to each other ... take care of each other ... listen to each other ... love each other. Change your "Maybe tomorrow" into "Definitely today" and be kind, take care, listen and love right this very moment. Don't wait for tomorrow, friends, for it may never come.