All we are is dust in the wind

This morning was a gut punch of reality. It took a bit for me to work through all the thoughts I had. I’m starting to realize I use my work as an escape to not deal with “real life”.

It started out as a normal early Tuesday, a lot of meetings scheduled, lots of emails to return, a puggle wanting to be walked, and chatting with some coworkers across the world. What I didn’t expect while dashing back and forth between my computer & the kitchen making my breakfast was that one of my coworkers out of the UK would let me know that someone that I worked with but never met passed away last week. This man was always helpful, always wanted to do his part to make sure that I got what I needed. We would chat about how we needed to grab a pint someday when I made it to London. We collaborated on a lot of projects. He was jovial, intelligent, and although he was all about getting things done you could tell he would be the same guy who would go for a pint with you after work & yell at the sports game on TV. From what I gathered from my coworker he was near the same age as I am, but was fighting cancer…all the while working like nothing was wrong nearly to when he passed.

We are all living our lives on this floating space rock to the best of our ability, and we never know when our time is up. I’m getting to the age where I have family, friends, coworkers, former schoolmates, and neighbors that pass on from health reasons, accidents, etc. and we never are prepared for it to happen. We always think “I’ll catch up with them next time”, but there might not be a next time. I see posts on social media about friends mourning their loved ones untimely passing and I don’t know what to say to comfort them. So often our lives are so chaotic and fast-paced that we don’t take the time to visit, have a chat, spend time, ask them how they *really* are. Are they ok? We don’t know unless we ask. Be there for people & skip that appointment to do (whatever) to be able to say you don’t regret your last time with that person.

Rest In Peace Paul. I’m sorry I never got to meet you in person.

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