Our Loved Ones Are Here Today and May Not Be Tomorrow: Live Fully Now

It is shocking when a dear one is gone.

My friend Matt died last week.

We’d known one another for almost 40 years. When our boys were young and best buddies, we were neighbors. Thanks to Matt, my son, Anthony, and Matt’s and Cindy’s son, Kevin, spent many hours fishing. He was always available for our boys.

His wife, Cindy, was my closest friend, as often happens when children play together daily.

Now he is gone. Suddenly and without warning. Do we want a sign that death is imminent, or is it better to go quickly?

We don’t have a choice, do we?

Our family moved three hours away when our children were still young. It was sad at first. However, we took turns visiting almost monthly. The move brought Cindy, me, and our boys closer together, as we spent entire weekends at one another’s home.

I also got to know Matt on a deeper level, and we had many memorable conversations about art, architecture, and Frank Lloyd Wright, Matt’s hero. We also discussed artists I admired, such as Monet and Van Gogh.

Cindy and Matt were married for over 50 years. He was devoted to her, and she loved him despite her complaints that he played too much golf.

It is shocking for the family when death comes unexpectedly.

Yet, emotionally painful for all when the loved one is ill and suffering for a seemingly endless time.

Yet, we have the chance to be the care provider and be present for physical and emotional support when there is an indication that a loved one is ill. The family can make preparations for the patient and loved ones.

We may be stunned and unprepared when death comes abruptly and surprisingly.

Matt was admitted to the hospital with viral pneumonia and immediately put on a regimen expected to remedy his condition quickly. Unfortunately, that did not happen. Instead, a pulmonary embolism assaulted his lungs. That negated the possibility of doing a biopsy that may have diagnosed an underlying problem.

His condition rapidly deteriorated, and within two weeks, he died, surrounded by his wife, son, and daughter—heartbreaking and bewildering.

Matt was a healthy man who ate right, quit drinking, and, in fact, played golf the day before his admittance to the hospital.

There’s a bit of a twist here that is confusing. However, when the family discovered the reason for Matt’s sudden death, their confusion was resolved.

After going through Matt’s medical records for the prior three years, the family discovered he was diagnosed with and informed that he had a rare respiratory illness due to Agent Orange from his time in Vietnam. Over the years, the effects of this poison damaged his lungs.

One year ago, the doctors informed Matt his condition was terminal.

What? Do you mean he knew he was sick and did not inform his wife and children? Exactly. I’m convinced that Matt did not want to “worry” them. Being the head of his family, a man of high values, integrity, and courage, Matt preferred to spare them concern and anguish and deal with his health on his terms.

My friend Cindy is dealing with her grief as best she can.

She and her two adult children sat with Matt, knowing the end was near, while he was in and out of consciousness and uttered his last words.

Matt opened his eyes, and his son asked him how he felt. Matt’s reply was: “Blessed.”

Somehow, that one word brought peace to the family. And when Cindy told me — it brought comfort to me.

Matt’s death reminds us that we never know when a loved one will take their last breath. Or us, for that matter.

Let’s behave like every day is our last and let our beloveds know how much we treasure them.

Matt was an architect, and Frank Lloyd Wright was his mentor and luminary. This quote from Mr. Wright defines the qualities Matt embodied:

Love is the virtue of the Heart; Sincerity is the virtue of the Mind, Decision is the virtue of the Will, Courage is the virtue of the Spirit.

I hope you will be able to hold onto a phrase, memory, or vision of a beloved when it is time for them to pass.