This week has been an abrupt awakening to the limits of human mortality, reinforcing that time is not guaranteed and we are not entitled to anything. Kobe Bryant’s sudden death in a helicopter crash started off the week in a weird place. I was never a Kobe fan, but his passing hit me strangely. I cared more than I thought I would. Perhaps it was the fact his daughter and others also perished in the accident, or maybe it was because Kobe was still a largely relevant cultural icon. Whatever the reason, the helicopter was full of life and potential that was snuffed out in a moment. The event left me contemplative of life, death, and what I’ve done so far with the journey. I thought that would be the end of it.

Three days later, my grandmother passed away. She was several years short of a century and in questionable health overall, so her death was not preposterous. What was a shock to the system was how quickly a life-threatening condition came on and everything went downhill. What started as a night spent throwing up ended with my mother having to explain to her mother that the doctors advised there was nothing they could do and she was going to die. Imagine having to accept your life is ending when you were just sitting with friends happily playing bingo the day before.

I know people around the world experience the realization life is ending every day, many without a peaceful precursor or warning, and that leads to another thought that tugs at my conscience – death feels as though it is taken for granted. Outside of family or potential larger spheres of influence and remembrance, when someone dies, they become a statistic which negates the scope and impact of their lives. Is that a misguided view? Maybe. How often do you hear of someone passing and think, “Aw, that’s too bad,” and then go about life giving nary another thought to the deceased? There are varying degrees of sympathy based on relation and personal meaning in someone’s life, but often it’s too easy to brush things aside as “thank goodness it’s not me” and move on to the next thing life is throwing at us. This isn’t a wrong way to think. It’s emotional self-preservation.

Life seems to go away too easily, but we can never truly comprehend the decisions and chain of events that lead to the end with the subsequent ripple effects that change the world and lives of others. Encounters with mortality reintroduce the desire (need) to not take things for granted and spend our limited time doing what matters to bring joy to life. Maybe I’ll hold onto that mindset a little longer this time. Maybe I can make legitimate life changes to bring greater purpose and impact to what I do. Perhaps, as the family pays their respects and says their goodbyes, that will be more than enough closure to go back into the day-to-day world doing the same thing. I hope not.