Perspective

I read an article in the Washington Post today about a mother of six daughters who was driving home from the swimming pool with her kids when a branch fell from a tree and crashed onto her van.  She and her seven-year old daughter were killed.

I’ve seen so many people mourning celebrities lately – Michael Jackson, Farrah Fawcett, Ed McMahon, even TV infomerical honcho Billy Mays.  A lot of high profile death to contend with in a week, no doubt.  But none of their deaths hit me as hard as that of Kelly Murray, who was an everyday person going about the business of her everyday life when a random act — a falling tree branch — took her life.  I’m sure I pass that same tree periodically myself.  Who is to say that my life couldn’t have been taken at some random moment?

I find myself wondering about her husband.  I wonder how a man wakes up everyday with no time to grieve for his wife and child as he faces the task of consoling his five remaining daughters — and raising them as a single parent.  I wonder how he faces his God, he himself a modern day Job with unbearable suffering and loss, as he searches for answers and for relief.  I wonder how he goes on with the day-to-day of his everyday life realizing that same day-to-day claimed the lives of his wife and daughter.  I wonder.

I’m reminded of a friend’s tragedy years ago when we were in graduate school.  He came home one day to find his wife — in the eighth month of her pregnancy — on the floor unconscious.  The baby was delivered, a healthy baby boy, but the mother was pronounced brain dead.  My friend returned to school in the fall to complete the second year of the two-year MBA program.  He brought with him his two children — a newborn and a six-year old — and his sister who had left her own family in Oklahoma to care for them all.  His pain was real and present everyday. We had all witnessed the love he’d had for his wife, and now the grief he bore in her absence.  That was nearly 15 years ago, and my friend has since remarried and lives a wonderful life.  But I will never forget the pain of those first days when he returned to campus.

I myself lost a high school friend earlier this year.  She died suddenly and unexpectedly, leaving her seven-year old daughter in her mother’s care.  The grief tore through my circle of friends, as we all struggled to make sense of the loss.  She was so young.  Her death was so random.  And it’s so unthinkable that she’s no longer here.

The old cliche “Life is short” rings true in times like this, a fact that we often busily overlook…until we don’t.  We walk the earth as though we are untouchable, as though we will live forever and have unlimited time.  We reach for career rungs and ignore the needs of those closest to us.  We yell at kids to hurry – we have important things to do.  We live in situations that cause us pain, even injury, all for fear of making a change.  We take the blessings of life and love for granted.

But life is indeed too short.  We each have important work to do.  For many, it’s God’s work.  For others, it’s a life of purpose or passion.  Whatever the journey, whatever the next step, I hope I can live each day remembering that the only moment that I’m assured is the one I’m living right here, right now.

I choose to make the most of today.  I honor my children, all of my family and my friends today.  I understand and acknowledge that tomorrow truly is not promised.  I am grateful for today.