Live a Life That Matters

I realize I haven't written in awhile. I guess I feel like I should write about something of value, and not just the small happenings of my days. Honestly, nothing really of value has happened to me recently (aside from strep throat - oh boy!). But I finally have a topic idea and the "urge to write," so TA-DA! Blog update! ;)

My boyfriend had a friend of the family pass away this week. Me, being the WONDERFUL girlfriend that I am (HAHA), joined him at the funeral home for the viewing. I am not a fan of death. Looking at a dead body in a casket is horrifying to me. Seeing people cry over a lost loved one breaks my heart. But seeing someone whose life is over is always very eye-opening and sobering for me.

My grandma passed away two years ago. She was a sweet woman; someone that I can only hope to be like one day. Her mind started going a few years before she died, and it made me so sad when she would repeatedly tell me how much I loved apple juice when I was little. She would tell the story of me going to the refrigerator and saying, "appajus! appajus!" probably three or four times every single visit. To this day, whenever I drink a glass of apple juice with my cereal in the mornings, I think of her. A little strange, I know...but it is a small part of her that I'm sure will stay with me forever, especially if I have a child someday with the same love for apple juice as his or her mother!

I have a strange way of knowing when people have died. When my grandpa (this grandma's husband) died, I was only in the 4th grade. Since he was in hospice and my parents knew his time was running out, I stayed at my aunt and uncle's house for those last few nights. I remember crying one particular night, and told my cousin that I just knew he had died. And sure enough, the next day I found out this was the case. YEARS later, as an adult, I again knew my grandma's time was running out. She had been put into an induced coma, and her body was quickly failing her. On the way to school one morning, I happened to turn the radio to a country channel. This is out of my normal routine, as I never really listen to that particular channel, and definitely not in the mornings! Anyhow...the morning talk show host read the following poem over the air:

Live A Life That Matters

Ready or not,
someday it will come to an end.

There will be no more sunrises,
no minutes, hours or days.

All the things you collected,
whether treasured or forgotten,
will pass to someone else.

Your wealth,
fame and temporal power
will shrivel to irrelevance.

It will not matter what you owned
or what you were owed.

Your grudges, resentments, frustrations,
and jealousies will finally disappear.

So, too, your hopes, ambitions, plans,
and to-do lists will expire.

The wins and losses
that once seemed so important
will fade away.

It won’t matter where you came from,
or on what side of the tracks you lived,
at the end.

It won’t matter whether you were beautiful or brilliant.
Even your gender and skin color will be irrelevant.

So what will matter?
How will the value of your days be measured?

What will matter is not what you bought,
but what you built;
not what you got,
but what you gave.

What will matter is not your success,
but your significance.

After hearing that poem, I knew in my gut that my grandmother had died. No one had to tell me, I just knew. And sure enough, after school, my mom called to tell me she had passed that morning. I of course raced around trying to find that poem, even calling the radio station to see if they could email me a copy of it for the funeral. I wanted to read it at the funeral, because I honestly believe my grandmother did just what was described in that poem. My family had made other plans for the eulogy, so I never did get to read it. However, I will always know in my heart that hearing that poem on the radio was a sign from God that my grandma had gone peacefully; it was also a reminder for how I should live my life.

I think many of us take our lives for granted. I know I do. I assume that I will live to be an old age, and that I will get to do all of the things I want to in my life. Yet I know this is not guaranteed. I also assume that my parents will be around long enough to see me get married and have children of my own someday. Unfortunately, this is not guaranteed either. Life is short and unpredictable. Sometimes God has plans for us that we can not understand. I have seen many people die in their 50's, before their parents and way too soon to be leaving their kids. Anything can happen. Therefore, we must make the most of the lives we are given. Each day is a gift, and we should treat it as such. I must admit that there are days when I dread getting out of bed in the morning, and the very thought of spending seven hours of my day with a bunch of seven-year-olds wears me out to the core. However, I should be THANKFUL that I have been given the gift to get out of bed each morning, and the pleasure to follow my passion. I want to live with no regrets, and make the life I am living significant.

On a lighter note, I have another funny first grade story to share with you all!

Katie: "Connor called me a chick!"

Me: "Connor, that was a put-down to Katie. I don't want to hear you saying 'chick' anymore!"

Awesome (who is sitting nearby, obviously eavesdropping): "Well, he can say that if he is referring to the animal."

Me: "Uh...yes, Awesome, he can say the word 'chick' if he is referring to a baby chick, but not to a girl."

Awesome: "Well, yeah..."

Seriously, where else but in the first grade could you have conversations such as these?! Haha.

I am grateful for...

1.) God.

2.) Sadie passed out on her dog bed!

3.) Going to dinner with my mom tonight.