Make the Most of Today
Life is a stage, and as we play our parts, we face the sudden and lingering exits of those we hold dear. The first loss we experience is often a relative, sometimes a friend.
As a young child, I was deeply affected by the death of my Great-Uncle Jadie Harris, though I don’t recall the details—only the weight of grief I was told I carried.
Last week, an unexpected lunch with childhood friends Pam and Bob Padgett brought back memories of another loss: Pam’s sister, Nancy Burgess, who succumbed to kidney failure. Our mothers were close, and we spent countless hours playing board games while they laughed and talked. Nancy’s death, the first of a playmate, shook me as a youth. Until then, death had been reserved for older relatives—great-great-aunts and uncles whom I adored, blessed as our family was with longevity.
In seventh grade, I recall a season when funerals seemed constant. When someone passed, our world paused. My parents consoled grieving families, helped with arrangements, or simply sat with them in silence. We children did our part, distracting younger cousins with games to shield them from sorrow.
As years passed, I noticed losses arriving in waves, marking generational shifts: first my great-grandparents, then grandparents, then aunts and uncles. Over the past decade, I’ve watched my own generation—and even some from the next—begin to depart. Just this week, two unexpected losses struck: a hometown friend whose dedication transformed our community, and a film industry colleague with whom I worked for over a decade to create opportunities for others.
Soon, I’ll attend one friend’s funeral to offer condolences and share memories with those who loved him. I’ll also call another friend who recently lost both his brother and wife, hoping light conversation might lift his spirits.
When we leave life’s stage, our role ends. Loved ones may mourn, but the world moves on. God doesn’t promise us tomorrow—only today, a gift to use well. Are you living fully in this moment? Are you lifting those around you?
Even a life as long as my friend Violet Hensley’s—109 years as an Ozark entertainer—passes in a blink from cradle to grave. So use today. Love with kindness, bless others, and live with purpose. Then, when your final curtain falls, the applause will echo.
