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<\/a><\/div>\nAs some of you may know, I found out yesterday that a friend of mine had passed away the afternoon before. His passing shouldn’t have been a shock. For as long as I’ve known him, his health has been out of whack. Still, when you lose someone who is so young, it throws you..it threw me..There is a part of me that still can’t believe that he’s gone…<\/p>\n
And he’s not the only one. In the past few years, I’ve lost track of the number of people who have died at an early age. I won’t say far before their time because who am to judge when someone’s time is. I will say that they left this planet before those who loved them were ready to let go. Maybe before people had a chance to tell them that they were loved…<\/p>\n
Which brings me to why I’m writing this post…I don’t know if Darrin knew that I loved him. I sure hope that he did. I hope that he knew just how many people loved him. I’ve been on his Facebook page today and the outpouring of memories has been overwhelming. If he were here, he’d be overwhelmed..of course, if he were here, it’s entirely likely that none of these posts would have happened.<\/p>\n
Does that seem wrong to anyone else? Why do we wait to share our love and our happy memories until after a person is gone? We’ve all seen the meme things on Facebook that say, “Hey, share a great memory of me…or of how we met.” We roll our eyes and move on by. How many of us stop to think about the fact that by simply taking 5 minutes out of your day and answering one of those, you could be changing someone’s day? I’ve had a really tough time of it lately and I posted one of those because I thought it might be a fun pick me up. One person took the time to answer it. Granted, he made up a seriously ridiculous story, but it made me laugh and it brightened my day and it made me feel special that he had taken the time to come up with it.<\/p>\n
When I was 15, my grandfather died. What most don’t know is that the last words I spoke to him were in anger. I was a teenager who didn’t feel that life was fair (and it wasn’t) and I wanted things to change, but because I was a teenager, I had no idea how to make that happen. So, we fought. We fought and a few hours later, he died without us ever fixing that. I’ve lived with that for 23 years.<\/p>\n
Over the past few years, I’ve lost friends…some I’ve lost to death and some have just simply drifted away, but after losing my grandfather and a couple other people suddenly, I never wanted anyone that I loved to not know that. I have friends who grew up in homes where love was shown by helping out, etc. The families weren’t touchy feely or vocal about their feelings. That’s fine. That will never be me. If you’re close to me, you’ll know it and I will never walk away from a conversation without telling you that I love you. Should something happen to me or to you, I want us both to know that you were loved. After all, it takes mere moments to share that with someone…so why don’t we?<\/p>\n