What I Didn’t Know

Putting Sunday night in perspective 

On Sunday night, I whined about my busy, stressful weekend and the Monday that loomed.  

On Sunday night, after I whined, my mother called to tell me that Jon, a very good family friend and neighbor, had just died.  He was 55.  

While I was writing my whiny post, my mother was at his house house, where she was comforting his wife and two daughters.  I didn’t find out until after I’d hit the “publish” button.  

A few hours after that, I was in bed.  I wasn’t sleeping.  I didn’t sleep at all that night. All of a sudden, busy, boring Sundays didn’t seem so bad.  

We all get tired.  We all complain.  It’s human.  But times like this make me realize why the normalcy of spending a few hours at the laundromat, the routine of packing my bag and laying out my clothes for Monday, and even hearing the sound of my alarm clock should be considered luxuries. 

How I wish I could have realized that on Sunday morning, before the phone call.

Jon, you will be missed.