We all go through life making plans. To go to school, to get married, to have kids - those are the big ones.
We also make little plans. To get the car fixed, to empty the dishwasher, to get groceries, to finish up that project that's been on the backburner for months. We plan vacations, and when to make time for friends. We buy tickets for things in advance (well, most of the world does, outside of Humboldt) and have no doubt that we'll make it to that event or concert (except in the winter).
We forget, sometimes, that there are some things we're just not in control of. We buy cancellation insurance when we book a trip, but we never think we're ever going to need it. If we do, it's a huge blow.
Young people buy health insurance never thinking that anything will go wrong; not expecting a diagnosis of cancer, or heart disease, or anything else that will get in the way of our plans for life.
But life often has other ideas.
It's always a shock to the system when we're reminded of that.
Young people die all the time. That's a fact - a terrible one, but a fact indeed. And yet when it happens, it feels like it's the first time it's ever occurred.
And that's what those of us left here are feeling.
What about those that go, so young and so quickly? How do they feel?
Healthy one minute, dead the next - how can that be?
That's a question we've been asking for years on end.
I don't know the answer. I don't know that anyone on earth does. Maybe there is no answer at all. Maybe it just is. There is no reason why.
It's hard to think about - not being here. It's hard to imagine not following through on your plans to get groceries, or take in that movie you and your friends all planned to see together. It's difficult to consider all the things you would leave undone if you just weren't here the next day, the next hour.
So we don't think about it. When a young person dies suddenly, those of us left always think, for some reason, it couldn't happen to us.
Yes, that was a terrible tragedy, we say. How awful. How unexpected. We should all learn to appreciate life. It's so short.
But in the back of our minds, we're thinking that when we get home, we really should put some laundry in. And we need to make that birthday cake before Friday. And maybe pick up a bit around the house in case friends decide to drop in.
We never expect we will be the ones called away unexpectedly.
But what if you were? What would you leave undone? Would you still think it such a vital thing to spend time on, once you're gone?
If you knew you were going away forever, and soon, what would you do? What would be important?
Would you finish up that important project at work? Hug your friends? Go out for a beer with the guys one last time? Would you try things you always wanted to do but were too afraid to try? Would you try to read every last book in the library, hoping somehow you'd be able to take all that knowledge you gained with you?
Life is short. No matter how long it is, it's never long enough. You could have 100 years on this earth and still yearn for more.
Knowing it's short, and that your life is just about over - would you change anything? Your job? Your house? Your life?
Or would it be too late to change? Would knowing you were leaving taint everything, cast it all in a blue pallor, make what once was sweet taste sour?
Is it better not to know? Who knows.
Perhaps it's best to do as one wise man once said: "Learn as if you were to live forever; live as if you were to die tomorrow."
Plans change. People die. Life is short. Savour it.
