We buried a friend

We buried a friend yesterday. His name was Vince and he was about twice my age. I hadn’t known him long, maybe two years tops. But he was one of those characters in life who make an impression. Even in the first days of our meeting he wasn’t in the best of health, but his mind was always clear. Always sharp with humor and the kind of off-balancing questions that if you were looking the wrong way when they struck would knock you on your ass in a fit of laughter.

Twice my age… That’s not long at all.

It gives me pause and forces my priorities – often straying from life’s long term goals to the little mundane worries of the everyday – back into perspective. We don’t have long on this planet to make the experiences that we will be proud to look back on when we're Vince’s age (which wasn’t all that old, by the way). You never know when it’ll happen, so don’t let yourself get bogged down in the small stuff. Don’t worry over the little things, and especially those things that haven’t even occurred yet, despite what your inside voice is threatening will happen.

Worry, as they say, is interest paid on a debt you may never owe. Life IS short, so despite the cliche, get your ass moving and do something worth looking back on in your golden years. Thirty years in a cubicle (not me) ain't cutting it, world.