Taking Tomorrow for Granted 

Wednesday, May 29th, 2024, 11:36 am.

They say that the good dies young, and that’s why my mission has been to be great. In my mind, being great and not good is a death-repellant. It’s also why I don’t want to be referred to or seen as any form of genius, because all geniuses end up losing their minds, from my experience. So, those are two titles I not only run from but want nothing to do with.

I just received a text from a friend inquiring if I heard anything related to someone we went to school with. Initially thinking about the last time I’d heard that name. I told her I hadn’t heard anything about this gentleman whom I hadn’t seen or heard his name mentioned since we were in junior high. Whereas his name ranged a bell, it caused me to run straight towards Facebook to make an ID on what he looked like. That’s how long it’s been. Subsequently, I informed her that I hadn’t heard anything (or seen since I scrolled over the two accounts under his name) she informed me that from what she gathered on a Facebook post he died. I’d like to point out that I don’t know this man. I know of this man, and this man’s name because we attended the same school over the years. But what I do know is he and I are the same age. And now, he’s got to be the third or fourth person my age who I know has died over the last month in my hometown. My friend replied to my text, “Too many gone so young” and I sat in her statement for a blink of a second and replied, “I know. I think this is what growing old shows us.” 

While this man’s loss of life caused me to sit in silence and reflect. My mind reminded me that clinging to this perception of coming from a lineage of elders and ancestors who live LONG lives is inflating my false reality of escaping an early demise. Although I work hard to maintain a healthy body and lead a prosperous life. I’m still haunted by the truth that God can still call me home at any time. He might be ready for me or my loved one before we’re ready to go. 

Growing old has taught me just how precious life is. No one is guaranteed tomorrow, but we continue to take tomorrow for granted. For me, it wasn’t until I reached age thirty that I noticed how death works. And what I mean by really works is, that I hadn’t noticed that people die. You’d hear someone died, but before turning thirty deaths weren’t close to me. It’s been in proximity, and even adjacent, but it had only gotten close to me once, from what I can recall. Death has a rippling effect on the emotions of those near and far and can often be treated trivial. Especially when it doesn’t hit home for us. But death is a remembrance of the life once lived.

And whereas my heart aches for those families who had to bury their loved ones over this last month or so. I’m reminded just how grateful I am. I remain conscience that life is to be lived to the fullest with no regrets because, in the same way, my hour of deliverance can appear at any given moment. So, can my call home to glory.    

UPDATE:

Three days after writing this I got a devasting phone call that echoed every possible sentiment I so eloquently tried to express. Death had called someone close to me home. That call loudly confirmed to me that death could be staring you right in the face. An early demise makes you feel as though life was cheated of a fair chance. In a blink, I was reminded how time laughs in our faces and it jeers at these plans I have to grow old.

Grief is complicated and mourning is a process that complicates the grief. Grief holds you hostage while mourning provides you with the hope to move forward. However, I’ve come to realize my attempt to move on can only happen by welcoming the new life I’m set to live without that loved one. And just perhaps, in the midst of this all, I’m bound to find the ultimate joy in the Lord’s strength.

✌🏾🅱️