Chase your dreams as hard as you can

This is not a space for political discourse. It never has been, and it won’t be this month.

But this is where I tell stories, and I have one to share.

My Aunt Janine died a few weeks ago. She was 62, and she died from COVID.

That would be sad enough by itself, but unfortunately, it goes a little deeper than that. Shanna and I drove to Florence for the visitation, and after talking with my mom and sister for a bit, I found myself face to face with my uncle, who was doing his best to keep it together.

After exchanging pleasantries, he started telling a story. A story about how he had been squirreling away money for the last few years so they could retire early.

“She always wanted to travel,” he said. “And I had just about saved up enough money when we got sick.”

They contracted COVID at about the same time. He was quarantined at home, while she wound up in the hospital. He managed to be there during her last days, not that it appeared to make him feel much better.“

I don’t know what I’m supposed to do now,” he said. “I never wanted to travel. It was all for her.” I stammered out something about how she would want him to do something that made him happy, and tried to be as comforting as I could.

But I was struck dumb. It was one of the saddest things I’ve ever heard.

I’ve got dreams that don’t involve working every day, and things I’d like to do in this life.

And whenever I think about my future plans, I’m going to remember my uncle’s face and hear his words.

I’m not wasting a single day. Life is just too short.