, , , ,

Picture you’re heading out the door.
Maybe a little more rushed than usual or maybe it’s one of those days that everything is lining up and you’ve got all the time in the world to get where you need to be.

What do you do?
Do you holler a “love you” as the door is closing behind you?
Do you plant a kiss on the top of a head or two and saunter off?
Do you say anything?

What about your Facebook?
What was the last thing you posted?
Candy crush achievement?
Rant about somebody in the coffee line?
Is there a new pic sharing a bit of what kind of day you’re having?

What about Twitter?
How many characters was your last tweet?
Did you favorite something and retweet it?
Mention someone that shares your taste in wine and say “cheers”?

How about phone calls, voice mails, text messages…
Did you answer the call? Did you listen to the voice mail? Reply to the text?
Maybe your coworker is picking up coffee on their way in and wants to know if you want cream and sugar.
The voice mail might be a bill collector.
Perhaps the text is the forgotten items that didn’t make the grocery list.

So you’ve left the house in whatever manner it was.
You’ve posted on Facebook, sent a tweet, made or received a phone call.
The text has been sent.

And then…

you’re gone.

That last interaction will be out there, frozen in time.
Whether it was heartfelt, trivial or mindless entertainment, it was a part of your existence and will become a thread of connection to those that will have to carry on without you.

The last post that PopPop shared on his wall

The last post that PopPop shared on his wall

Through social media and constantly advancing technology, a part of us will live on.
Sites become a memorial of sorts.
Loved ones that remain are given the opportunity to share their disbelief, the ways that you touched their lives, a birthday wish, a moment of sadness, a triumph.

Electronics allow us to replay moments of life that were precious.
Those last voice or text messages that held significance, for whatever reason, are read and played over and over. It doesn’t matter how mundane the topic, there is a sense of security in knowing that at some point, you mattered -they mattered.

When a loved one passes it prompts us to take a look at what we’ve ranked as important in our own lives.
We evaluate our last discussions and work schedules.
We spend more quality time with our family and friends.
We’re more free with our “I love you’s”
We stand face to face with our own mortality and it takes us to a place of reflection.

There is so little that I accept or appreciate about death but the ability to really look inside myself and see where I am in the big scheme of things, seems to come easy when the pain of loss is fresh. The treasured moments that come to the surface are heartwarming and breaking at the same time.

And then…

I learn to live again

It’s times like these, I learn to live again