The Ordinary Day That Wasn't

I'm sitting on my comfortable couch in my air-conditioned little house as I type ... my belly is full, and a glass of cold iced tea rests on the small wooden table to my right. My smart phone reclines on the arm rest below my elbow, and there are three sleeping wiener dogs snuggled in next to me. Minus a couple of the dogs ... I'm granddog sitting for a week ... tonight is a carbon copy of most of my evenings. Tonight is no different from any other Friday evening for me, or any other evening, for that matter. When I woke up this morning, I fully expected today to be an ordinary day and tonight to be an ordinary night. 

I would imagine that the two young men who were killed by police officers this week didn't wake up on those fateful days knowing that it would be their last day on earth. I'm guessing the police officers who were murdered last night in Dallas didn't go to work thinking they would draw their last breath before the day was done. Not one of those men ... not the young men and not the police officers ... not one of them knew when they walked out of their homes on those days that their lives would soon be ending. To each of them, it was just an ordinary day ... an ordinary drive ... an ordinary place to be ... an ordinary job. It was a day like every other day ... it was just an ordinary day.

As I drove home from work this evening, I thought about the families and friends of the two young men and the police officers. Families and friends who are grieving the loss of people whom they loved ... people whom they expected to return home on those ordinary days. As I thought about those families and friends, I wondered about their final moments with their loved ones ... moments they didn't know were final ... embraces they didn't know they would never feel again ... words they didn't know would be the last ones spoken. My heart is especially heavy for those whose last moments with their lost loved ones may not have been good ones ... the ones who may have spoken from a place of anger or impatience or jealousy. I cannot begin to imagine the magnitude of the searing pain they must be feeling, and I cannot begin to conceive the weight of guilt they may well carry for the rest of their lives. Those are the people my soul hurts so deeply for, friends ... the people who would give their very lives for the chance to have those final moments back again.

I don't wake up every morning with the thought that I may not live to see the next day ... but I should. I should live every single moment of every single day being mindful that the words I say to the people in my life could end up being the last ones they ever hear me say. As I turned into my driveway, my mind was filled with thoughts of the words I said today followed closely by the words others said to me. Tears filled my eyes when I opened the door into my house and little Ollie the wiener dog was there waiting for me, tail wagging, trying with all his wiener dog might to climb into my arms. I scooped him up and held him close ... just like I do every day ... just like I do every single ordinary day.

It was just an ordinary day for the men who lost their lives this week ... until it wasn't. None of us are guaranteed even our next breath, friends ... be mindful of the words you say ... be mindful of the words you don't say ... be mindful of the words you should say. Take the time to listen to the ones you love ... take the time today, friends, because today could be the only day you have.