Life Is Precious

Thursday night, Herb and I came home to a phone message that his brother, Glen, who was in Toronto on business, had had a heart attack. We returned the call to find out that he had just passed away. Needless to say, we were stunned.

Glen was only 45 years old. He was in excellent shape – he had been an athlete his whole life. He had no prior health issues that we knew of. He was not the sort of person you expect to suddenly lose to a heart attack, or any other health problem.

He leaves a beautiful wife and two daughters, who all adored him. He leaves a brother and sister who always loved to reminisce about their childhood spats and pranks, but who all obviously loved each other dearly. He leaves two parents who could not have been prouder of their children and their accomplishments. He leaves countless aunts and uncles and cousins and in-laws and friends and colleagues who are mourning the loss of this vibrant, funny, intelligent, thoughtful, charming, wonderful man.

I consider myself blessed to have known him for the short few years that I did. I first met him when Herb and I had only been dating for a few weeks, at a football game. He was very gracious and made me feel welcome and included. And just a few weeks later, he invited us to spend Thanksgiving with his family, treating me as if I were part of the family. He had the gift of being elegant and cultured and incredibly intelligent but never making those around him feel out of place. He was the kind of man who brightened the world around him. He was a gracious host, a loving husband and father, a valued colleague, and a generous human being.

His death reminds me that life is precious. It makes me want to hold my son a little tighter, tell my husband I love him a little more often, call my mom a little more frequently, and work harder to be gracious, patient, and generous with those around me. It makes me value every second I have with those I love. It makes me aware of how precious and fleeting those seconds can be. I am grateful for all the seconds I shared with him.