Everyday is a gift…
Yesterday morning, I attended a breakfast that I wasn’t all that excited about. You know the kind—obligatory small talk, bland coffee, the whole routine. But near the end, I wound up next to a 55-year-old Greek guy, and that changed the day.
He told me his story. He had gone through a brutal stretch in life, the kind that pushed him to the edge—literally. He stood on train tracks, ready to give up. At the last moment, he changed his mind. And since then, he has lived differently. Now he’s full of life, taking opportunities, finding joy in the small moments, determined not to waste what he almost threw away.
I’ve never been on those tracks. But I’ll admit—I tend to be a glum person. Talking with him lifted me.
This morning, life balanced things out with a gut punch. My wife brought terrible news. A close colleague of hers—someone I’ve also known for years—lost a child, unexpectedly and tragically. College-aged. Bright future. And gone.
There aren’t words for that kind of grief. I can imagine the pain, but I know I can’t actually touch it. The way I’ve come to think about these deaths is as “death from mental illness.” It doesn’t soften the blow, but it frames it. Just as cancer can take a child, mental illness can too.
I feel awful for their family. I also think that I was meant to learn something from these two encounters, which happened back-to-back.
It isn’t about me—this is their pain, their story—but there’s a message here. Oddly, this was reinforced by a spam text message that said, “May you have a happy new day.”
Every day is a gift. Someday, death will come for me, or for someone I love. Maybe today. Maybe in thirty years. But until that day, I owe it to myself—and to the people around me—to treat every new day as joy.
This morning I swam with my wife. We went to a local coffee shop. Now I’ll read and do some work. Ordinary things, but I’m trying to be present in every second. To build stronger relationships. To be the kind of person who helps others feel better about life. To look for contentment instead of wallowing in what’s missing or wrong.
It’s great to be alive!