On one of life's biggest clichés

What are you doing today?

We all know the clichés, "Life is short", and "Live each day like it's your last", or a hundred others like it. Most of us recognize the truth in these statements, but almost none of us ever does anything with that knowledge.

Why not?

If we got news from our doctor tomorrow that we had a week or a month to live, I'd venture a guess that most of us would spend that time dramatically different than all the days leading up to now. If we got news tomorrow that one of our loved ones was in that situation, I'd bet that once again, our behavior would change significantly as we sought to maximize what time we had left with them.

But here's the rub. We often don't get to know when that last day is coming, for us or for those we love. Many times it comes out of the blue, unexpected, unwelcome, and finding us unprepared. The regrets many of us might feel in the aftermath can stay with us for the rest of our lives.

Why is that? Didn't we all read the "life is short" clichés and take them to heart? Don't we already know that any given day could be the last for us or someone we love?

Of course we know. But we can't go through our lives living in the constant state of fear for our well-being and that of those we love. So we settle into our day-to-day routines, working our jobs, cleaning our houses, running our errands. We begin to take our family and friends for granted, because they've been there, and in all likelihood they'll continue to be there.

Until they're not, that is.

I have been alive for 16,253 days. For the vast majority of those, I've had a lot of control over how I wanted to live those days. What have I done with them? How many of those days would I look back at and think, "I spent that time well"? Probably not nearly as many as I'd like, if I'm honest. And here's the thing: I probably fewer days left than what I've already used. How many? Who knows - maybe zero. I could die in an accident on the way home from work today. Or I could live to be 100 years old. Only God knows.

No matter how many days I do have left here on earth, I do spend a lot more time wondering how I can balance maintaining my responsibilities while maximizing the opportunity that each day of life offers us. Because like others who've suddenly and tragically lost a loved one or nearly died themselves, that tragic loss has changed how I view life, death, and how I spend my remaining days.

So, with a different frame of mind I ask you again, what are you doing today?

My advice? Make it good.

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Photo credit: 
Author: Hamed Saber Author 
URL: https://www.flickr.com/people/hamed/ 
Title: Tehran Sunset Year: 2006 
Source: Flickr 
Source URL: https://www.flickr.com 
License: Creative Commons Attribution License 
License Url: https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/ 
License Shorthand: CC-BY

The year of huge changes

It's been a huge year.

Around this time last year, I went to Florida for a deposition in the civil case around Aimee's death. By now, that case is closed.

Sarah and I were dating, but had been together for less than six months. As of today, we closed on a house we're buying together, and our wedding is a little more than nine weeks away.

Speaking of houses, my house looks very different. New driveway and walkways and a new exterior paint job have completely changed the appearance of the house, and a new fence and deck are being planned. By this summer, I hope to have the house run by a property management company who'll rent it out for me.

It's the house that Aimee and I bought together, and Rowan and I won't be living there anymore.

Keys - to a house, to a marriage,
to a life

Speaking of Rowan, she's coming up on the end of her Kindergarten year. She's lost a bunch of teeth, all of them within the last year. And she's gone through and processed a lot of life's upcoming changes in her own amazing way (possibly a topic for another blog post).

But not everything has changed. Aimee's mother Donna has been an absolute rock star. She's gone above and beyond to help me with Rowan. She has embraced my relationship with Sarah, despite how difficult it is for her to see me with someone other than her daughter. And she has continued to help Rowan learn a little more about her mommy each time they see each other, which is pretty frequent.

Yes, a lot has changed in the last year, and more changes are coming soon.

But some things have not changed. Some things will never change.

I miss Aimee. I feel it more strongly at some times than at others, but it's always there. Time hasn't changed it. Falling in love with Sarah hasn't changed it. I doubt anything will change it.

And the process of planning a wedding and more importantly, a marriage, have me reflecting a great deal on doing this exact same thing a mere eight years ago.

It seems like so much longer ago, a lifetime in fact. It was a life in which I'd never been married before. A life in which I didn't have any children to worry about. A life which didn't know what it was like to have someone walk through the front door and tell you your wife just suddenly, tragically died, while your three year old daughter gripped the back of your leg.

A completely different life from the one I have now. I'm living a much different life than the one I was leading eight years ago. And I am a much different person in many ways than I was eight years ago.

I am happy, for the most part. Rowan is doing so well, it's just amazing. Sarah and I are working very hard at creating a foundation for a wonderful marriage. But always in the background (and sometimes right in front), is Aimee and her death, and the undeniable impact that has on our lives.

Yes, it's been a huge year with a great many changes. But it feels like I've been through huge changes before, yes?

If I could go back in time to record something that already happened...

A technology news outlet I follow on Facebook posted the following status update a while back:

Have you ever wished that you could record something that already happened? What would you go back and record? - http://tcrn.ch/173v8RY

Although they apparently deleted my comment (for reasons completely outside of my understanding), this is what I commented (slightly edited):

I would so love to go back and record the few moments I got to spend with my wife on her last day alive. She died in a terrible scuba boating accident, and of course none of us knew those were her last hours. I'd record her and I and our then 3 1/2 year old daughter snuggling in bed that morning. I'd record the last hug I gave her. I'd record our daughter and I seeing her later that day at the aquatic center where she did her beginner scuba diving training, shortly before she went out on that boat. I'd record my last goodbye kiss, which was through a chain link fence. And I'd record that very last moment I set eyes on her, from across a distance, waving at her in her pink shorts and white t-shirt and beautiful smile before she left our lives forever. Some people feel we spend too much time recording life and not enough time living life, and they're absolutely right. But I'd so love to have those moments recorded so I could go back to them and also to show our daughter as she grows up and is trying to know and remember her mother.

As I reference above, I think many of us (myself included) spend too much time with our face pointed at a screen (usually a smartphone) taking photos, posting updates, whatever. We spend so much of our lives interacting with our devices and not living in the moment. But there are times when I think we have to recognize the preciousness of the little things, and we need to remember to try and capture them once in a while. You never know when those precious little events can become hugely important. I know my daughter and I would both love to have record of those last precious moments with Aimee.