and ramblings on everything in between
Last July was a hard month. We lost a friend to a brief and freak accident. He was 30 and at his bachelor party when it happened. He had a beautiful bride waiting at home, a new career as a lawyer, and his whole life to dream big and explore the world ahead of him. And then all of it was taken from him.
I remember driving to the funeral and repeating to myself, This is stupid. This is so stupid.
As I glanced around the church that day, many faces from my childhood surrounded me. I kept thinking it could have been any of us. It could have been my parents sitting in the front row instead of his. But it wasn’t us. It was him.
I think no matter how hard we try, we are forever ignorant to our mortality. Forever blind to the fact that any breath could be the last. After tragedies such as this, we become more aware, for a brief stint, until the normal drum of life resumes. Then we are back to wading through the day-to-day and unintentionally clinging to our false sense of security that there will be more. We always assume there will be more.
Now that the calendar is about to flip to July again, the sadness is creeping back in. His loss sits heavy inside of me. I’ve thought about him so much this past year. When unexpected opportunities come up or awkward situations are presented to me or challenges greet me at the front door, I find myself asking, “If J Byrd was given more time on Earth, would he say yes more often?”
Heck yeah, he would.
He would go and do and love and fight and grow and conquer and laugh and cry and seek and be. Because he could.
Thinking of him reminds me to be brave, to not be so scared of the world, and to chase after what I love. Even if by the grace of God I’m granted 50 more years, I know I’ll still say those years went by too fast.
And what if this is all the time I’m given? Then I want to be able to say I lived.