A co-worker recently lost her fight against a stroke. A stroke that occurred at work, the morning of the day of our holiday party. One minute she was talking, and the next, well, she just wasn’t. Needless to say, the festivities became less festive, more subdued, as we assimilated the fact that she was, in fact, battling a stroke, and all we had to offer her and her family were our thoughts, our prayers, and our support. Everything else was out of our hands.
The Buddha has been quoted as saying, “The trouble is, you think you have time.” What becomes painfully apparent when something like this happens is that life is fragile. My last blog was about the suddenness of change in our lives, and this event put that, once again, in the forefront of my thoughts. Life is fragile. Life is short, even when we live many years. It’s never enough. Our fear of death – of the unknown – is what keeps us fighting to live. An author I admire, Gretchen Rubin, once said, “The days are long, but the years are short.” She’s so right. The years spent on this earth by us, in this form, fly by. We rush the work week, so we can get to the weekend. We rush parts of the weekend, so we can do the one thing we really wanted to do, the fun we had planned, or simply the sleep we needed to catch up on. Then we’re back at Monday morning, driving to work too fast, to get to a place we often complain about having to be (except perhaps on payday), to rush another week on by, to collect our paycheck, to get to another weekend, or maybe a vacation, to spend our hard-earned wages. We need to just stop.
I am sad about this loss. I am sad that we rush by each other, and don’t often stop to say hello, how’re you doing, how’s the family, what are you doing this weekend? We often criticize people for things we see in them, or think we see, not even taking the time to know the person. The person with a family, a life. With plans and dreams and desires. We see them day in, day out, and think we’ll see them again tomorrow. But we don’t know that. And what we need to know, and understand – truly understand – is that we may not see them tomorrow. Which leaves us with only this day, this moment. So slow down. Take a breath. Say hello. Spend an extra minute of you day talking to someone you haven’t talked to in while, or ever. Tell your family and friends how much they mean to you and how much you love them. Spend some time with them. Because, truth be told? You don’t have any time to waste.
~ jwb ~
JB – This is so true. I often notice that people dread Monday’s and barely speak to each other. By Wednesday, the mood is a tad bit lighter. However by Friday, nearly EVERYONE is smiling, happy and talking to each other – even strangers. It is sad but we do rush time by living for the weekend. We cannot take time for granted. It is flying by and we must be appreciative of life and show love and concern for each other. It has been tough dealing with the loss of our coworker. The day before her stroke, we laughed and talked for a few minutes as she was leaving her shift and wished each other a good night. At that time, neither of us knew that would be our last opportunity to talk to each other. She was a very caring and giving person. I miss her.
Thanks Melbra – I agree 100%! We are rushing our lives by, always wishing for some date in the future, instead of just enjoying the “now” and our friends, families, co-workers, and just life in general!