Today on my morning walk I was listening to Dan Fogelberg’s music. I was thinking about how long I have been listening to that voice and those songs, and I was pondering how much his music has meant to me over a whole lot of years. And then I remembered that he died, quite a few years ago as a matter of fact. That thought then sent me wandering down a path of pondering how many people who have impacted my life are now no longer alive. Some of those folk were “famous” in some fashion or other – people whom I never personally knew but whose influence I continue to carry with me. And some of those folks were very close to me indeed – my beloved wife Veronica, my parents, friends, people I worked with, people who helped to shape how I experience the world, people who made an extraordinary difference in my life. The list is significant and lengthy. All of them have left this plane of existence and moved on to other endeavors, which is not surprising, since that is what we humans do. We are born, we lives our lives, we interact with others in big and small ways, we make a difference in the world (each of us in our own ways), and then we shed this earthly form and go do something else. I don’t really know what that “something else” is, or for that matter where it happens. I only know that they are no longer here. None of us get out of this life alive. Such pondering might have turned rather morbid. It might have resulted in me feeling quite sad and forlorn. But that’s not what happened, because I actually believe that all of life is pure gift, and I am convinced that no one ever really leaves us. Dan Fogelberg’s music still moves me. My wife’s love still swirls around in my heart, reminding me that I am worth far more than my worst fears could ever imagine. Death is a real thing. It changes the nature of our relationships and our experiences. But it does not end them. In the almost 70 years I’ve been breathing this air and living this life I have come into contact with countless other people. Many of them are dead now. Almost certainly most of them are no longer in regular contact with me. But all of them, every single one, left their mark. Who I am today, in this moment, is the result of all of those countless moments when someone impacted my life. And death cannot change that. I want to open my arms, and my heart, and embrace the absolute enormity of that gift. I absolutely love the random reminders that regularly show up offering a fresh perspective that fills me (once again) with gratitude and humility. All of life is sacred. All of life is a gift. And nothing (absolutely nothing) can alter that truth. This adventure we call “life” will not last forever. So I might as well relax and enjoy it while it lasts. It would seem rude to do anything less.