Written around 12 a.m. on Saturday, June 24th.
Today began like any other day. I woke up groggy, called my mom (as I do nearly every morning), and got dressed. What I didn’t know was that this would mark one of the hardest days of my life.
I was born the youngest of five siblings but it was complicated. My mom had given up her son for adoption when she was 19, so I wasn’t even raised with him. As for the others, Mary was my only full-blood sibling, but I was raised with my dad’s two sons from his first marriage as well, so they all felt like one big somewhat happy family. The only problem was that I think I was born too late. I mean, I know God know’s what He is doing and all but the gap between my siblings and I proved to be a problem.
Dennis was the oldest sibling I was raised with. He was brilliant – I mean a true genius. But like many genius people, he had his pitfalls. Those are not for me to share, but lets just say he struggled his whole life to overcome his issues. His mother had died when he was young, which is how our dad ended up with my mom, and that trial was one he struggled with his entire life.
…A life which was cut short.
Dennis is gone, but never forgotten, as they say. The hardest part is that before he died we had “parted ways,” so to speak. We had a fight in person, which then became a fight over email which ended in us not speaking. The cut off from each other ended up being permanent as he is now gone.
I am sharing all this partially to get it out there. Additionally I think it sometimes death helps us realize just how blessed we are. I knew I was blessed with a husband, children, and family and friends, but I took one life for granted. When we cut ties I let it be. I thought, “he will come back some day and we will make amends.” I didn’t even try to make amends. It wasn’t pride, really, it was more that I thought I had time. We had cut ties before and then made amends. How would this be any different? I thought time would heal all wounds and we would be friends again. I truly believed that it would work itself out.
What I want my readers to know is that life is short. It has been compared to lilies in a field which bloom one day and then another day are gone. I truly never know when my candle will stop burning, nor do I know when the next person I love, like or care about in any way will cease to reside on this plane of existence. This means I should cherish life.
What I am NOT saying is to fear death or in any way avoid living. Neither am I saying that one should just do whatever because you never know when your number will be up. What I am saying is simply to cherish life as if each moment is special and unique, because it is.
I am writing this at 12 a.m. so more later.
(To Read Cherished Life Pt. 2, click on this link: Cherish Life Pt. 2.)
Super Momma Maggie