It is. Life is too short to waste any of it. And we never know what is going to happen next to us or to the people we love.
I have always tried to tell those I love that I love them. It's funny - my 84 year old Mom almost never says the words. "I love you." It doesn't seem to me as if it would be that hard to say, but for some people, it's almost impossible. I don't understand that at all.
But - I know that my Mom loves me and my brothers and sisters, the rest of her family and her good friends. She shows it every day in what she does for all of us - in her actions, it's very plain to see. She loves me. When I speak to my Mom on the phone, which I do every day, I always end the conversation with an, "I love you."
She almost always replies, "Me, too." It took me a while, but as I matured, married and had children of my own, I realized that for my Mom, "Me, too" means, "I love you."
Once in a while, she says the actual words and I'm deeply touched every time. She told me some years ago that she'd been talking to a family friend who was a priest - Father Citeralla. She was upset because one of her kids (probably me) had complained that she never told any of her kids that she loved them. She told him that she would rather show her love than say the words. He had agreed with her and set her mind at ease. He became a confidante and he was very important to her for many years. By the way, all seven of we, her children, did finally figure it out - for our Mom - "Me, too" means, "I love you very much."
Because I am the kind of person who seems to need to hear the words myself, with my own children and husband, family and friends, I always say "I love you." My older son, who is 31 , says the actual three words. My younger son, who is 30, says, "loveyoutoomom." I've tried to tell my sons how much I love them, but I don't have the words.
They can't understand until they have a child of their own.
My older son is engaged, so perhaps there will be a grandchild for me and my husband someday. I pray that my younger son meets someone who will love him with all their heart.
Last Monday, my younger son called me and said, in a shaky voice, "Mom, I have bad news." When I asked what kind of bad news, he said, "It's really bad." Dave died.
Dave died?? David is ... was ... 30, the same age as my son. They've been friends for most of their lives. My son used to go on camping trips with David and his parents when Dave and my son were boys. Dave's family had a comfortable above ground pool in their backyard. On hot days in the summer all through the past 20 years, Dave would call my son, who would grab his bathing suit and go to Dave's to spend time in the pool. I don't believe they ever actually swam. Sometimes they'd take a six pack of beers and just sit in the pool, drinking beer and talk for hours. They also used to go out to meet other friends at a bar. My son has lots of funny stories about those times.
It's so hard to think of David in the past tense. And terribly sad.
David was invariably polite to me. He had a gentle voice and manner. He was an immensely talented musician, who left many personal musical compositions on his computer, written and sometimes performed by him.
30 is too young. Young people who are only 30 years old are not supposed to die. We are supposed to die before our children. That's the rule.
My son and one of my nephews, another friend of Dave's, and my husband went over to his house to see his parents, and brother. My husband is a counselor, and he listened to Dave's Dad who talked for a long time.
I couldn't go for the same reason I miss most important things - logistically, it's difficult for me since I have to bring the scooter, the rolling walker or my two canes. A few days later, I called Dave's Mom. I told her that I hadn't known what to say. She said, "There's nothing you can say." I, like everyone else, gave her my deepest condolences and then we talked about our sons and their friendship for about an hour. My husband has plugged my scooter in so that the batteries will be fully charged. I'm going to Dave's wake tomorrow and to his funeral on Monday morning. I would not miss it for the world. I'll use the canes tomorrow, and the scooter on Monday.
Dave's brother asked my son to do Dave's eulogy. My son replied that he'd be honored. I know he'll do a wonderful job with it.
I feel especially sad about Dave's death. His Mom told me that his cholesterol had been very, very high and that he had died of a heart attack - died in his sleep. I pray that he did not suffer for an instant - that he didn't wake up, but passed away peacefully. He was a gentle soul who burned brightly.
I taught a music class for grades 1 - 8 at the Catholic grammar school my sons attended. One of my sisters also sent her four children to the school, so I had my own two sons, her four children and a little boy named David in my class among all the other pupils.
My older son and my niece were in the same grade, and my younger son, a nephew and David were in a different grade. My nephew shines brightly in my memory, because he had (and still has) a wide, brilliant smile. My younger son was quiet and so smart that he could barely say verbally what he was thinking - his mind literally went faster than his mouth. David had a sort of Beatle-style haircut - you know - with bangs - very dark hair, a kind of pale face with freckles that stood out and an impish expression on his face and a glint in his eye. That is the memory of David that will remain clear. I know my son will miss him. His Mom found him after he didn't wake up when she called him. I cannot imagine the shock and grief.
When I think of poor Dave dying at the age of 30 it makes me very sad. But the idea of his Mom and Dad, bereft, breaks my heart.
On mid-summers day in 2008, my nephew and godson, Eric, died suddenly. He was 25 years old. His death was the first tragedy my family had experienced. My family isn't unfamiliar with death. No one on this Earth is. My Dad died at the age of 68 of end stage kidney disease. But -
he'd been ill for 20 years. Although he was young, he was very ill, and it was his time. Also, when someone lingers like my Dad did, you do a lot of your mourning ahead of time. But a young person dying unexpectedly is so hard to bear. My husband and I are going over to see Dave's parents in a few hours. All I'll be able to say is what I said over and over to my sister when her son died -
I'm so sorry. I'm so very sorry.
Rest in peace, David. I will remember you.
Life is so short - don't waste it - do what you need to do to make you and those you love happy - and if you can, tell those whom you love that you love them. Now. Right now.
I'm just sayin'.
