Moments of Gold

by | Sep 30, 2010

I’m up again at the witching hour. This time I’m amped up on a strange concoction of cold medication, benadryl and tater tots. My heart feels about ready to explode and my body is somewhere in between the land of dreams and the land of wide awake.

But I got thinking today about life. I know you are probably thinking, Suki, when are you not thinking about life?

However, let me tell you the moment I got thinking about it:

I was driving home. It was about 4 o’clock and the rain had just started threatening from within the clouds. As a few drops landed on my windshield, I could see the sun trying to peak out from behind the looming rainclouds. The girl in the car in front of me stuck out her hand to feel the rain. And as I saw this I was instantly cast to my childhood…to those moments when my Dad was driving fast and I would stick my hand out the window and feel the cool wet droplets of rain. I would feel the wind slapping against my palms, and somehow it would make me feel so alive.

Today was a strange day because it made me realize how fragile life is. My friend contacted me because she had heard of our classmate’s passing. He was 26 years old. I told her the information I knew, how he had lymphoma and it slowly took him from the earth. She was in shock, wrote on his facebook wall about how they were going to meet up, and now she lost that chance. She said they will meet again someday.

Today was the anniversary of my dear friend’s mother’s passing. A strong, intelligent woman it was very hard to watch her leave. I went with my friend to her funeral, it was a time I’ll never forget. And every year at this time I think of her. And the phone call I received that terrible day.

Two of my coworkers are in hospital today. Then I found out another friend was just down the hall.

I was visiting with Nicole today. She suffers from MS and every day I see her struggle. She doesn’t know how powerful she is and how beautiful that inner strength is. It’s truly amazing.
She gets up and comes to work even though she feels like hell. She stands up when she falls down. She always keeps going.

And it’s in moments like this when I’m sitting in a hospital room, when I’m watching someone play in the rain, when I’m looking at memories of moments passed and friends we’ve lost along the way, that I appreciate this life.

Because these moments with each other are more precious than gold.


Submit a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *