There will come a morning you will not see.
A morning when the sun rises, the birds sing, people make coffee, traffic fills the roads, and someone somewhere complains that it’s too early to be awake.
The world will continue.
And you won’t be there to watch it.
For some reason, we don’t like thinking about this.
We spend much of our lives pretending there will always be another morning. Another opportunity. Another conversation. Another chance to say what we should have said yesterday.
And, most of the time, there is.
Until there isn’t.
But here’s the strange thing.
That’s okay.
Not because your life doesn’t matter.
Quite the opposite.
Your life matters precisely because it is temporary.
We don’t look at a sunset and complain that it doesn’t last forever. We don’t refuse to enjoy a song because eventually it will end. We don’t consider a childhood meaningless because it passes.
We understand, somewhere deep inside us, that things don’t have to last forever to be beautiful.
Perhaps we should think about our own lives in the same way.
You are not required to experience every tomorrow.
You are not required to see how every story ends.
You don’t need to control what happens after you are gone.
Your job is simply to be present for the mornings you do get to see.
To love the people who are here.
To laugh when something is funny.
To forgive when forgiveness is possible.
To say I love you while there is still someone there to hear it.
To stop postponing your happiness until some imaginary version of your life finally arrives.
Because there is a strange trap in believing that life is about reaching a future where everything will finally be right.
There will always be another problem.
Another bill.
Another disappointment.
Another thing you haven’t figured out.
And there will always be another morning.
Until one day, there isn’t.
So perhaps the point isn’t to make sure you see every morning.
Perhaps the point is to really see the mornings you are given.
Notice the light coming through the window.
Enjoy the first cup of coffee.
Listen to someone you love telling you a story you’ve already heard.
Take the walk.
Make the phone call.
Watch the sunset.
Laugh at something completely ridiculous.
Put down your phone and actually be where you are.
Life doesn’t promise us forever.
It only gives us now.
And now is considerably more precious when you understand that you won’t have it forever.
One day, there will be a morning you will not see.
And that’s okay.
The sun will rise anyway.
The world will keep turning.
The people you loved will carry pieces of you with them.
And hopefully, somewhere in the lives you touched, something of you will continue.
A kindness.
A memory.
A lesson.
A laugh.
A little piece of light.
You don’t have to live forever to leave something behind.
You just have to live while you’re here.
So don’t worry too much about the morning you won’t see.
Make something of the one you can.
