So I was sitting at my desk, adding the names of all the cities I've visited to my Facebook profile, when my cell phone rang. It was my beloved son, Zack, calling to tell me that he and Emily were fine, that they hadn't been on the bridge over the Mississippi River that just collapsed.
I, of course, had been blissfully unaware of the disaster until he called, and am grateful beyond words that their planned trip OVER THE BRIDGE THAT WENT DOWN was delayed by enough time that they were nowhere near the bridge when the disaster occurred. (Thank you, Zack, for calling to let me know you guys were okay!)
Ever since then, I've been thinking about how incredibly fragile our lives are, how we can be safe and well one instant and then - poof! - gone in the next instant. Just ... gone.
I'm really bad at living in the moment. I spend my days either regretting something in the past or obsessing and worrying about the future. Intellectually, of course, I know crazy it is to live like this, but it takes an event like yesterday's near-miss for Zack and Emily to slap me upside the head, get my attention, and remind me how important it is to pay attention to the here and now.
Forgive the somewhat smarmy advice, but take a moment to tell someone you care about that you love them. And a hug wouldn't be a bad thing, either.