Tough weeks remind us what's important

I'm not going to lie, last week was a rough one.

Two friends came to the end of their lives, another received some discouraging news regarding an ongoing medical issue and yet another was hospitalized.

It reminded me how finite life really is. As I've heard other people say, "This is no dress rehearsal. You've only got one life to live, so live it." It struck me like a slap across the face, but there have been little signs of this for the last few months.

In December, as I was getting Christmas cards out, I wanted to do more than just sign our names and get them in the mail. I decided to actually write them. To some people I hadn't talked to in some time, I wrote notes of a memory, or that I missed them and hoped we'd see each other soon. One of those cards was sent to Shelly, someone who volunteered at one of the shelters where I worked, and who periodically would sent me cute little cards, and I would reciprocate.

In early January, I received a card from someone I didn't know, but somewhere in the back of my mind, knew the name. It was from a friend of Shelly's, letting me know that Shelly passed away from a sudden heart-attack in October. My heart sunk. I was appreciative of her friend letting me know, and I wrote her a note of sympathy and thanks. You see, Shelly talked about this person all the time, and while I didn't know her personally, I knew how important she was to Shelly.

One of the other cards I wrote was to my Aunt Susan, who I had lost complete touch with until my dad passed away. She sent me some letters that my dad had sent to her and my uncle when he was in the Navy, and those little pieces of history are a treasure to me. My uncle passed almost 30 years ago. They had divorced long before that, but she's always been my aunt and I was incredibly grateful she reached out when she did. So the Christmas card I sent to her wasn't out of the ordinary at this point. Her card in response to it started by saying, "How nice to receive your holiday greeting. It has been a difficult year we just left behind, and your cheery 'hello' was especially bright."

I don't know if it's just that as we get older and so involved in our own lives we neglect our friendships from those further away, or that we're too busy to keep up, or myriad other reasons that prevent us from staying connected. For a society with so many ways to keep in touch and the technology to do it better and faster, it seems to me we're so disconnected from those important to us.

The truth of the matter is, I don't want to be so disconnected, but sometimes it feels like it's just so much to add one more thing to our daily routines. I'm super guilty of this... just ask my kids or my mom. I'm not the best about reaching out or calling people back, and I'm surely not the best at staying connected all the time. It got me to thinking, what if I did it more than just at the holidays? What if I scheduled 15 minutes each day to write someone, or give someone a call to let them know they're on my mind? What if I did it more consciously and not as an "afterthought?"

I always love receiving handwritten cards or letters in the mail. They make my day and make me smile. If this is how I feel about them, maybe others do too. For a lot of the younger generation, email and text is their version of keeping in touch, and that's not all bad. It's better than no communication at all, I suppose. But there is just something about a handwritten note.

I fear actual letter writing is a dying, lost form of art. When I was in school - and I especially remember this in high school - we wrote notes to one another. I guess today's version of note writing is texting, but it's not the same. There was just something kind of cool about walking to your next class and exchanging a note with your friend. Somewhere, in all the things in my storage unit is a box with my notes from friends in high school. When I read them, they bring back all sorts of wonderful memories.

I also remember in my younger days, probably in elementary or maybe even in junior high, we had pen pals with other kids in different schools and states. It was always a thrill as a kid to get a letter in the mail, to read about what these people were up to. Sometimes, they were so different from what was in our lives. It expanded our horizons and gave us insight as to how differently people lived in different places and yet how we were all still the same. Personally, I think the pen pal program should be brought back into schools. Students would write letters, not type them, and learn about others. But that's for another day.

I guess what I'm saying is stay connected, somehow, with those who are important to you. Remind people that they matter. Enjoy every moment you have with them and appreciate what they bring to the table. When you have a week like I did last week, filled with death, unsettling news and hospitalization of friends, it makes you remember and sometimes wish you had done a better job of being present and in their lives.

Write the letter, send the card, make the phone call, treasure the moments, because one day the chance to make those moments will be gone. When we get to the end of our lives, how much better could we all feel about the impact we made in someone's life, just by reminding them they are important?