Why is it that we wait until after someone is gone to say the sweetest words? To publicly affirm our love. To define friendship. To verbalize exactly what someone meant to us. Why don’t we make a point to stop for seven seconds while a person is still living. And breathing And make a quick phone call. Or send a text. Or record a silly video. Or find a snarky e-card.
I see story after story of people coming out of the woodwork writing touching words about a man that made the world laugh until their sides hurt. And I wonder … who is the person in my life right now, in this moment in time, that could leave this world tomorrow. And I haven’t said what I should say. Because a flood of words after they are gone does no good for them. It does good for me. And I want my words to do good for them while they are still alive to hear them.
With Shawna, we had the luxury of time. Knowing what was coming. And 23 days in hospice. And finding time to say things that you say in those last days (not that she’d let you). And I won’t forget the moment when I thought “This is it. This is when the words come flooding.” And we sat in silence. Watching the fall leaves fall. And breathing in life.
Because everything we needed to say… had already been said.
