I had a roommate (Nutty) in the dormitory my freshman year of college. We were both in Engineering School and his father already possessed an Engineering Degree. One day, Nutty received a correspondence from his father. It was addressed to both of us. It was a single sheet of paper with an obituary taped to it. The obituary was for Tank, one of Nutty's best friends in high school. Tank had gone into the military and had ended up in southern California. Whilst on leave in Tijuana, Tank partied up and at 3AM stepped in front of a bus and was killed instantly.
We sat in silence for some time which was rather unusual for Nutty and me. I think that we were both pondering the number of times in the previous months that we had been plastered enough to fail to see a bus. Finally, Nutty read the inscription that his father had added underneath the obituary.
"Boys,
Today is the first day of the rest of your life. Or it could be the last. Live accordingly.
Love,
Nutty's Dad"
I learned that lesson intellectually way back then and, for the most part, taken it to heart. In the past few months, this bit of knowledge has deepened into wisdom of the sort that can only be described as emotional or even spiritual. There's more on this, oh, so much more.
5 years ago
3 comments:
Sad thing is, he probably didn't even need to be drunk.
I saw my (stone sober) husband get hit by a car in Tijuana, a few years ago. He was in the crosswalk, until he was rolling across the hood of the car like some 1970s tv cop. The car actually sped up, after the driver saw him. It was like "OOOH! A TARGET!"
We got cursed at in English AND Spanish, as they sped away.
Christine-Ouch. Life comes at you fast. Sometimes you want to jump in front and other times you've got to get the hell out of the way.
That's a sad story and a valuable lesson.
@ Christine - someone tried to break the bass playing husband?! Bloody hell!
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