Moments Matter
I get up at 3:30 in the morning, six days a week to go to work. Friday, was no different. Get up, pack my lunch and get my coffee and head out to the yard to get the big truck and start my day. No different until I hit a huge buck deer.
I drive a Ford Transit Connect van. A little van and a very large buck, add to that a speed of 60 miles an hour and you have a lot of damage. The whole front end of the van is demolished. Hood, fenders, headlights. Most of the front plastic and all the glass is wrecked. The upside is my windshield is fine and my airbags did not deploy.
It made me think
I am fine. I sustained no damage at all. I finished driving to work. Spent my day trucking without incident and drove the van home to wait for an insurance adjuster. He assures me the van can be repaired and will be right as rain before long.
I have been on plenty of accident scenes that did not end so well for the driver. I have driven people to the hospital numerous times and been on-site when some of them did not survive similar situations. All said I was very fortunate. But it made me think.
This life is a treasure
How often do I take for granted that I will see the Mrs again? How often do I talk to my kids and friends as though we have plenty of time to talk later. I know I forget how fragile life is and disorder my priorities.
Too much time spent making a living and not enough spent treasuring the life I have.
Life after bladder cancer
Cancer is a wonderful wake-up call. An opportunity to redirect energy. I received that wake up 15 years ago. Now and then I need a reminder. Mine came yesterday at 4:00 in the morning courtesy of a very large deer.
I called my kids and told them I was gone and that I loved them. I listened to my wife cry as she yelled at me for scaring her. What I am trying to say is this - take time.
In the midst of treatments and diagnosis, take a moment to sit and have a coffee with a friend. Stay an extra few minutes with a loved one and smile. Make a phone call or send a card.
Everyone has a "beast"
The truth is, cancer is a beast. But everyone has their own "beast." We spent so much of our lives trying to get somewhere when we would be better served to enjoy where we are, no matter where that is.
I had the opportunity to see an old friend. My son and I went to pick up a plow and some parts for impending winter snow. Rudy, my friend, and I got to telling stories and laughing. We have been friends for 20 years. He was my sponsor when I joined the fire department.
He asked about my cancer and told me how he could not sit in my hospital room after my brain tumor surgery. He told me he had never seen someone so torn up live. We laughed near to tears.
Cancer has never had me
I have had cancer, but cancer has never had me. When you finish reading this reach out to someone and catch up. Laugh or cry. Hug someone's neck and tell them you love them.
Cancer is a beast, but life is still a precious gift. Enjoy the gift. Be well, my friends. Be well indeed.
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