What Really Matters By Beth Trouy | Spirituality

There are no coincidences. I’m convinced of this fact and, being a believer, I’m also convinced God orchestrates these moments to keep us focused on what really matters.

I woke this Saturday morning with a clean slate in front of me for a change and at the last minute, decided to go for a morning bike ride on the green line. Hurricane Lara had left her mark just yesterday and it was still wet and hazy outside, perfect bike riding weather. I took the green line East and meandered my way into Shelby Farms and across Walnut Grove. I love the route along the Wolf River with plenty of shade and wide paths for passing. After an hour of riding, my butt was sore and I was hungry so I decided to find somewhere to rest and have a power bar. There’s a lot of construction right now on the green line and many of the usual spots are barricaded for repairs. Luckily, I did find an area off the path that faced a small lake and I even found a bench to sit. I had already passed dozens of benches and just decided on this one at the last second. As I sat down, I noticed it had a plaque in the center that read: “In Memory of David Lee Myers Jr, DDS.” I caught my breath and the hair on my neck rose as I felt the ringing in my ears. I knew David.

David was my Uncle Jeff’s best friend in life. I remembered him as being so funny, full of joy and with a handsome smile that welcomed you. He was a chiseled athlete so full of energy and a skilled dentist. Some of my favorite memories were of spending time with Jeff and David in a ski boat listening to Earth, Wind and Fire and making the most of a Saturday afternoon. David’s life, as was Jeff’s, was much too short. David developed severe and debilitating arthritis in his early 50’s and died a few years ago from complications of depression, incapacitating pain and other factors none of us will ever fully know. In June of last year, my Uncle Jeff died of a brain tumor just 7 weeks after being diagnosed. Two men, so full of life and just hitting their stride, gone.

Why had I found David’s bench? No, why had I been led to this bench? You see, I think we all need to be reminded that this life is fleeting, precious and fragile. We can’t let ourselves forget that we know not the day nor the hour that our time here ends. Are we making the most of it? Are we loving the people around us and forgiving those who hurt us? Are we planting seeds of hope, joy and peace that will influence others after we too are gone? Will we be remembered with love?

There’s another lesson learned here too. I got up to leave and then thought maybe I would just sit awhile longer reflecting. I must have stirred up the hornet’s nest when I shifted and after several painful stings to the arms and chest, I made a hasty retreat on my bike. It was a magical moment to see David’s bench and remember him and Uncle Jeff. It was powerful to remind myself that life is fleeting and precious and I’d better make the most of it. But I also cannot dwell. Those that have left this world are still very close to us and we carry them always in our hearts. But we can’t sit too long. We have to keep moving forward. There’s still so much left to do and the path awaits.

Beth Trouy Contributing Spirituality Writer