Belated.

This past Sunday my mom found out that her childhood BFF - the one she had known since she was 6-years-old - passed away suddenly from stomach surgery gone wrong. 

The whole thing is pretty tragic, especially considering she left her children behind - the youngest of which is only 9-years-old.

I've had a lot of phobias in my lifetime - fear of elevators. Fear of flying. Fear of paper cuts on my eye, lol. But nothing compares to the fear I have of leaving my children behind. And it's a real, legitimate fear, considering we are never promised another "tomorrow" in this world.

I have been talking with my mom these past couple of days about her friend, Cathy. In those conversations, other people we've loved and lost have come up. I've spent the past couple of days thinking of these people...laughing at some things, crying at others. But there is one theme that pervades each of these thoughts - life is too damn short.

It makes me ill that we so often take advantage of our exchanges with one another, simply because we allow ourselves to temporarily believe that we, and the ones we love, are invincible.

For me, I am haunted by the fact that I didn't get to spend more time with my Grandpa Tom before he passed. I was in California...I was staying at a house not even a mile from where he lived...and I didn't visit. A few months later, he was gone.

And then my thoughts turn to my Grandpa Vern...a man who, during my last visit before he passed, had asked me to take photos of he and my Grandma Lin so they could have a more updated photo of the two of them. Feeling tired on one of my last days, I was somewhat relieved when the two of them came over and said, "Nevermind, let's do them when you're out here in September."

He passed in July.

Instead of saying, "Ok, grandpa, that sounds good," I SHOULD have said, "No, no! Let's do them now!" Because you never know what is going to happen.

I am thankful that I got to see my Grandpa Broad in his final days. Originally I wasn't going to be able to, but in a rare instance of, "No, I want to see him," I was able to spend a little more time with him than originally planned. For that, I am very, very grateful.

But the same cannot be said for so many who have loved and lost.

My heart aches for my mom, as I know she wishes she could have seen Cathy more over their 46 years of friendship. The fear of losing those we love encourages me to be better at my relationships - both with family, and with friends. 

As someone who absolutely hates to talk on the phone, I am very quick to ignore a call from a friend. There are people whom I love dearly but communicate with but once or twice a year. Why? 

So THIS is my New Year's resolution - albeit a bit belated. I want to live my life as though tomorrow may not happen, and love on those who may not wake up tomorrow.

Gone are the days of regret. I don't want to regret not showering someone with love when I had multiple opportunities to do so. I don't want to lose anyone else without them knowing fully and completely how truly important they were to me and my life.

People deserve to know they are important. And loved.

And I have a lot of love to give. :)