At The End Of The Day

I hadn't gone to the Singles Ward for about three weeks. With the way things have been working out with The Girl, I guess I haven't had a lot of motivation. I went today to try to meet with one of my friends, but he ended up not being there. But that wasn't too surprising. This is a holiday weekend in Utah, after all.

I was surprised by something I saw in the foyer, though. There was a picture of one of the ward members on a small stand. Scattered around the table were brightly colored sheets of scrapbooking paper. And then I saw the note next to the picture. It encouraged everyone to write down a memory of the girl to put into a scrapbook for her mother.

I finally got to talk to someone I knew about this. She told me that the girl had died a week or two ago from some sort of cardiovascular condition.

I was stupefied. I still am a little, I guess. I knew this girl, at least in passing, from the ward choir. She was not old; she was about my age, give or take a couple of years. There were no outward signs of illness that I ever saw or heard about. She seemed happy, energetic, and full of life.

And now she's gone.

I don't know why this is affecting me so much. I didn't really know her. But I suppose I see in her a bit of myself and those of you out there who are close to me.

I have a dear friend who recently lost her father to cancer at a relatively young age--not that much older than my parents are. She's had a hard time with it, as I know I would if my Mom or Dad died.

I've been lucky; I've never yet lost someone that close to me. But I know I'll have to deal with that one day. I don't know how I'll handle it. And I know that when I shuffle off this mortal coil, there will be some who grieve at my passing. It pains me to know that I won't be able to do anything for them.

There were a lot of notes on the table about this girl. I looked at a few of them just briefly. Those who took the time to remember her to her mother told stories of friendship and service and laughter and love. It looks like she left a lot of friends behind. She lived her life as fully as she could, and in so doing, she made a difference in the lives of a lot of other people.

Maybe that's what I'm supposed to learn from all this. Maybe it's not the grand plans and the big accomplishments we leave behind us that define us and prepare us for the great beyond. Maybe it's the friendships and the family relationships and the small impacts we have on those around us day by day that really define us.

Enough. I'll never know how much time I or anyone else may have to live. And I don't need to. All I need to do is go out each day and give it the best I've got, and try to live each day better than the one before.

It's time to go out and live.

There is no hand waiting that must be paid
We will leave our encores all unplayed
At the end of the day
-Spock's Beard