Sometimes I forget how precious our lives really are until something just awful reminds me.
I read so many tragic stories.
Someone lost a loved one.
Someone died of a terrible disease.
Someone went off to war and never came back. Someone walked home from school but never made it.
And I hear it so much that I forget to feel for the people left behind. The ones that have to endure the pain. The ones that suffer through the agony alone until it builds them or breaks them.
I forget to mourn. To cry for the living. Because it hurts too much. Because its easier to ignore it, bury it and move on.
I forget to take that extra moment to laugh with my family. Smile at my son. Steal an extra hug from husband before he leaves the house. Call my parents.
I take for granted that I will be here every day. That I will eventually do all the things that I want to do. That I will have the time.
Because there's always tomorrow, right?