Sunday, October 28, 2012

Seize the Moment

 by Donna K. Weaver

A coworker (of sorts) is going through a very tough time right now. Her husband suffered a double stroke a couple of weeks ago. As if that wasn't hard enough, he slipped into a coma, and his doctors had no idea where the clots had come from.

Things got even more challenging when they discovered a mass in his liver, and the doctor said the big "C" word. Further test determined that he has cancer in his liver that has metastasized throughout his body. Seems the strokes may have actually been a blessing. There's so little hope with his body riddled with cancer and so much brain damage from the strokes they must now decide whether or not to take him off life support.

I really feel for this coworker. I was a widow at 26, and I remember days when I would take my two children to the park after work rather than go home to the empty house. How long and miserable Saturdays and Sundays were because those were the days his absence was most keenly felt since he'd have been there with us. When suddenly you're the only one to comfort and console your children who don't understand why daddy isn't there anymore.

It's also a wake-up call to see someone younger than you die. That could be me. Who knows what's going on in my body? I might live to be ninety like my fraternal grandmother or drop dead tomorrow.

The life we have is precious. I believe our priorities for how we use the hours of our lives  are critical. We should decide what's really important to us and invest our time in those.

What does this have to do with writing?

Where do our dreams of writing/publishing fit in our eternal scheme? Only we can decide if watching that TV show (or whatever our distraction of choice might be) is important enough to pay for it with hours of our lives. Do we give up doing something higher on our priority list? Are we putting off to a later time--a time we may not have--the people and things that are most important to us?

On this somber Sunday, I challenge us each to review our priorities and compare them with how we're actually spending our time, make sure we're being with the people and doing the things that mean the most to us.

11 comments:

Pat Hatt said...

Yeah we just never know when it is our time to go. Live life how we please is the best, but then the rat race does dampen that a bit.

Libby said...

I feel so sorry for your coworker. Cannot even imagine what being a widow at 26 was like for you.

I try to live knowing that everyday could be my last. Life is for the taking, and it is fleeting.

Alex J. Cavanaugh said...

We are never promised a tomorrow. What we do today is what matters.
Very sorry for your co-worker.

L.G.Smith said...

Good reminder to stop wasting time and live in the moment.

farawayeyes said...

Surviving cancer will give you a very different perspective on life. Makes getting 'old' not sound so bad, after all. Life is the hard part and hardest on those left behind.

Talli Roland said...

What a great reminder to embrace life. Thanks, Donna.

Stina Lindenblatt said...

Thanks for the reminder. Alex says it so well.

I know a number of moms who lost their husbands when their kids were very young. It's heartbreaking.

J. A. Bennett said...

Oh man, I hate to hear stories like this. So sad! And Donna, I had no idea you went through that. :( Makes me want to hug my kids a little tighter and be nicer to my husband. Thanks for the reminder!

Carrie Butler said...

So sorry to hear about your co-worker and her family, Donna. :( I'll pray for them.

Medeia Sharif said...

I'm sorry to hear that about your coworker and her husband and I had no idea you were a widow. This post makes me think about how I spend my time. Lately it's been work and stress. I know I'm reaching goals, but at the same time I wonder if I'm really enjoying life.

Julie Daines said...

So sad. And hard for the family. I lost my sister to cancer three years ago. She left behind a family of seven. I wrote about it on my blog last week because it was the three year anniversary of her diagnosis. Fall always reminds me of her last few weeks of life.

My heart goes out to any family going through a similar situation.