Bridging the Distance
Yesterday afternoon was the memorial service for Kim and Chris, the coworker who was killed in a car crash during President’s Day Weekend. They were heading home from Joshua Tree in rain when their car hydroplaned and crashed into an oncoming truck. They both died instantly.
Our IT team did a wonderful job organizing the service. Apparently Chris hadn’t been in contact with his family for years, so his coworkers made all of the arrangements in San Diego. His dad came and spoke and said he’d earlier thrown some of Chris’s ashes in the waters of La Jolla and brought some others to this “Celebration of Life” at the Marriott Del Mar. He spoke of Chris’s childhood and wondered aloud how that kid from Boston could come to enjoy fine wine, yoga and cuddle parties.
This guy is a legend in the San Diego running community and he officiated. He reminded us to live our lives to the fullest, as Chris and Kim had in the short time they walked among us. And he told us to let people know how much we love them because “it’s a short distance between living and dying.”
Thursday is my birthday. I don’t like celebrating it publicly, so I never like people to know in advance. But I’m making an exception this year because I want you to do something for me to make the day special. I want you to let someone know that you love them, preferably someone who hasn’t heard it in a while or maybe ever. Do it without the expectation of hearing it said in return. It could be your mother or father, if you’re fortunate to still have them here. It could be a brother or sister that you’ve drifted from. Or a child you helped raise or one that’s still home. Maybe there’s a former friend or lover you haven’t talked to in ages that you still deeply care about. And if love is too strong, at least let them know they are important to you, perhaps even after years of discord or dislocation. There is no gift greater than a few heartfelt words of appreciation sent with no hidden agenda.
We all think we know where we’ll be in an hour, a year, a lifetime. But Ozzie’s right: that span between living and dying is not so long and not so much in our control as we might think. Be remembered for being the bigger person.
Our IT team did a wonderful job organizing the service. Apparently Chris hadn’t been in contact with his family for years, so his coworkers made all of the arrangements in San Diego. His dad came and spoke and said he’d earlier thrown some of Chris’s ashes in the waters of La Jolla and brought some others to this “Celebration of Life” at the Marriott Del Mar. He spoke of Chris’s childhood and wondered aloud how that kid from Boston could come to enjoy fine wine, yoga and cuddle parties.
This guy is a legend in the San Diego running community and he officiated. He reminded us to live our lives to the fullest, as Chris and Kim had in the short time they walked among us. And he told us to let people know how much we love them because “it’s a short distance between living and dying.”
Thursday is my birthday. I don’t like celebrating it publicly, so I never like people to know in advance. But I’m making an exception this year because I want you to do something for me to make the day special. I want you to let someone know that you love them, preferably someone who hasn’t heard it in a while or maybe ever. Do it without the expectation of hearing it said in return. It could be your mother or father, if you’re fortunate to still have them here. It could be a brother or sister that you’ve drifted from. Or a child you helped raise or one that’s still home. Maybe there’s a former friend or lover you haven’t talked to in ages that you still deeply care about. And if love is too strong, at least let them know they are important to you, perhaps even after years of discord or dislocation. There is no gift greater than a few heartfelt words of appreciation sent with no hidden agenda.
We all think we know where we’ll be in an hour, a year, a lifetime. But Ozzie’s right: that span between living and dying is not so long and not so much in our control as we might think. Be remembered for being the bigger person.
