Live Life


Stopped at a job site as I'm prone to do so I could heckle the guys who are out there working hard. I passed one such guy and we stopped to chat. We were just about finished with our conversation about the work when I said:

"There's writing on your arm."

He twisted it so I could read the words.

And I imagine that it's there so he remembers to prioritize his values but as soon as I read it my mind clicked to an obituary that I'd read at lunch on Wednesday.

A guy I'd known for at least ten years had the extreme misfortune of getting his photo in that section of the paper.

At 50 years old!

"What the hell happened to Dave?" I texted another co-worker.

"Heart attack. Saturday morning," he sent back.

I read the arm over and over once I snapped the photo.

And I thought of Dave, who'd made just a line in the news:

Dave enjoyed working outdoors and spending time with his children

And that would be it in many of our minds.

Dave is gone.

And I thought of the guy I'd seen on Thursday morning. He was waiting in the parking lot, standing with his golf clubs, for a ride. His buddies were picking him up to play a round.

Damn! I wanna' skip work and play.

I yelled out to the guy (a complete stranger).

"You lucky bastard! I wish I was playing!!"

"Go get your clubs," he said. "Let's go!"

But of course, I went off to work and he loaded his clubs into the back of his friend's car.

Live Life Like It's Your Last Day.

I don't suppose that we can possibly do that every single day or no one would ever go to work, would they?

I thought of Dave again.

I imagined his Saturday morning.

Up and out of bed.

A bunch of stuff to do.

"What're we doing for dinner?"

"Are the kids going anywhere today?"

"I need to change the oil in my car."

And then...

...boom...

...heart attack...

and it all stops.

Right there.

The clock runs out.

I read the two words over again.

Live life.

What else can you do?

I hope the guy in the parking lot was able to scratch out a few pars.

(And to my work buddy...thanks for letting me take a photo of your arm...read that...and live it...as much as you can!)

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